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MY PILGRIMAGES 
TO AJANTA & BAGH 








BUDDHA’S RETURN TO HIS WIFE AND SON, AFTER 
HIS ENLIGHTENMENT. 


CAVE 17. (See page 148) 
In the Oriental Department of the British Museum 


MY PILGRIMAGES 
BO 
AJANTA & BAGH 


By 
SRI MUKUL CHANDRA DEY 


With an Introduction by 
LAURENCE BINYON 


NEW YORK 
GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY 








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TO THE MEMORY OF 


WILLIAM WINSTANLY PEARSON 


CONTENTS 


My Frrst PILGRIMAGE TO AJANTA 

A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE CAVES 
THe LIFE oF GAUTAMA BUDDHA 

My Seconp Visit To AJANTA.. 

I BecIn my WoRK IN THE CAVES 

How THE CAVES WERE First STARTED 
THE CavEs—continued 

My SERVANT’S DEATH 

I MovE INTO THE CAVES 
ADVENTURES—PLEASANT AND OTHERWISE 
Tue Finest PEriop oF INDIAN ART 
My Last Days at AJANTA 


My PILGRIMAGE To BAGH 


PAGE 
27 
4d 
56 
86 
95 

107 
113 
124 
135 
156 
168 
187 
199 


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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


Buddha’s Return after his Enlightenment Frontispiece 
FACING PAGE 


Ceiling of Shrine, Cave 1 : 
General View of Ajanta Caves, hoes Ged 1 to 13 
Descending a Ghat on the way to Ajanta 

The Village and River Neri 

Group of Flying Figures, Cave 17 


King, Queen, and am ee and Gin’s S pea 
Cave 17 


First Glimpse of the Ajanta Cee showing Raves 
16 to 26 


‘The Ajanta Gorge, Mowing aks 26 


King Bimbisara, his Queen, and Attendants, at 
within a palace pavilion, Cave 17 rs 


Jataka Scene, with Horseman, Yogi, etc., Cave 17 
A Girl with a Fly-flapper, Cave 17 

A Hunter and Wild Geese 

Begging Scene, Cave 17 ; : 
Prince Gautama Bathing in his Palace, cave 1 
Women Worshipping Buddha, Cave 1 

The Toilet of a Queen, Cave 17 

The Temptation of Buddha, Cave 1 

Buddha Teaching, Cave 17 


A King, Queen and Princess with eerea Rt tene 
dants, Cave 10 4 hes ba £4, 


Facade of Cave 9 


Interior View of Cave 9, with Samet Stupa i in ie 
middle ‘ ; : 


Facade of Cave 4 


11 


26 
at 
36 
36 
37 


54 


107 


107 


List of Illustrations 


| PAGE 
Baranda of Cave 7 a ae ae Sis »s. 418 
Facade of Cave 11 ne i i i én ES 
Baranda of Cave 11 = ay = = Sc OD 
The Dying Princess, Cave 16... : 140 
The King of Benares eo ae the Coie Coane) 

Cave 17. aN : 141 
Ceiling of Bhrands, Cave lT. 2k. : .. 144 
Group of Musicians passing through the air, Cave 17 145 
The Bodhisatva as a Six-tusked Elephant, Cavel7 .. 146 
The Capture of the Elephants, Cave 17 my 146 
The Landing and Coronation of i Bijeya 3 in 

Ceylon, Cave 17 ; 147 
A Hunting Scene, Cave 17 = = : . 4s 
Facade of Cave 19 Sa a zy <i ~» 240 
An Alcove for Repose, Cave 19 = .. 150 
Roof above Triforium, Cave 19 ee oF a eo 
Triforium of Chaitya, Cave 19 Ne a .. 150 
Lower part of Facade, Cave 19 PP Ke ee 
The Right Side of the Nave, Cave 19 ne «kor 
A Capital in the Baranda, Cave 24 3 , ee 
A Naga-King, Queen, and Attendant, Cave 19 vin: SS 
Interior of Cave 19 ss ie 2 Beye 
Facade of the Lower Storey, Cae Ges .. 168 
Interior of Cave 6 =e ~ AP * ne 
Royal Love Scene, Cave 17 oa SS o; 3 ah 
The Birth of Buddha, Cave 2 . 180 


A King Punishing one of his Court Daneene Eas 2 180 
A Lotus Lake with Hunters and Wild Geese, Cave 2 181 
A Rich Lady Preparing to Visit Buddha, Cave2 .. 181 


Facade of Cave 1 LG q a is oo 182 

Ceiling of Baranda, Cave 2 — wi wth i CARR 

Prince Gautama and his Wife, Yashodhara, with 
Attendants, Cave 1 a ae bis mage 


12 


List of Illustrations 


Back View of Seated Girl, Cave 1 

A Palace Scene, Cave 1 

Ceiling Fresco, Cave 1 

Facade of Cave 26 

Door into the Right Aisle of Cave 26 
Interior of Cave 26 

Pillars on the left of Cave 26 . 

Panel in Ceiling of Shrine, Ue 1 


In Front of the Bagh Caves, by the river Baghmat 


The Main Cave in the Bagh Hills 


Peasant Women aes Meals to their Me in the 


Fields ode 
The Jungle-Village near Bagh: aie I niche ; 
Entrance to Cave 2, Bagh 


Cave 5, Bagh, showing how the whole of Heeansia fen 


fallen in front of the entrance 

The Rang-Mahal Cave 4, Bagh 

Photograph of Fresco in the Rang-Mahal 

A Group of Festival Dancers, Cave 4, Bagh 


ILLUSTRATIONS IN THE TEXT 


** In the Shade of the Bokul-tree ” af 
The Six-tusked Elephant, Cave 10 a 
Buddha Teaching, Cave 16 

Map of Central India, showing Ajanta aoe Bagh 
From a Wall Painting in Cave 10 

Figures from the Oldest Painting in Cave 10 
Head Drawing, Cave 10 .. 

A Wall Painting in Cave 16 


13 


PAGE 
184 


184 
185 
192 
193 
194 
195 
198 
199 
199 


222 
222 
228 


223 
236 
236 
237 


56 
58 
aa 
87 
101 
104 
111 
139 


List of Illustrations 


PAGE 
A Naga-King us ee a ocamay ©. 3! 
Painting Over the Door of Caed Lhe “ .. 144 
Plan of Cave 19 .. a BS Ae es .. 150 
Plan of Cave2.. : Be és a va ee 
A Figure from a Painting i inCave2 .. a ee a 
The Messenger in Cave 2 i on a .. 180 
Figures from a wall painting in Cave 1 oe .. 184 
The Temptation of Buddha i : % Pas 
Buddha’s Feet Resting on Lotus witwars ge .. 240 


14 


INTRODUCTION 


THE wall paintings of Ajanta have been made 
the subject of elaborate and sumptuous works, 
such as the two folio volumes published by 
Mr. John Griffiths in 1896-7, and the portfolio 
of reproductions of copies made by Lady Herring- 
ham and her assistants, published, with essays 
and descriptions by various hands, for the 
India Society, in 1915. These publications are 
in the hands of the scholars; but there is room 
and need for a more popular book on the paint- 
ings, for they should be known to all the world. 
The present work, written by Mr. Mukul Dey, 
a young Indian artist, who has himself made 
copies from the paintings, will do something, 
I hope, towards supplying that need. 

It is somewhat presumptuous for one who 
has himself never seen the paintings to write 
about them. But as a matter of fact very few 
indeed of the English in India have ever visited 
the caves, and if there is any excuse for my 
presumption, it is that I have been for a good 
many years a student of the art of Asia, and 
of the relations between the arts of the various 


15 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


countries of that continent. In the art of 
Asia, Ajanta is one of the central monuments. 
It is indeed one of the great monuments in the 
art of the world. 

In China there once existed countless frescoes 
on a grand scale, among them probably some 
of the finest paintings ever made. But all, 
save a few provincial specimens, have perished. 
All the more therefore must we prize the splen- 
did series still existing at Ajanta, together with 
those, less known but equally wonderful, though 
alas ! only a mere remnant, at Bagh. 

Though known to me only through copies 
and photographs, these frescoes—not techni- - 
cally ‘* frescoes ’’ in the strict sense of the term, 
but the word is convenient-—-seem more wonder- 
ful, the more they are studied. My approach 
to Indian art was made by way of the art of 
the Further East, of China and Japan: and at 
first, my mind being filled with the enchant- 
ment of design, the mysterious felicity of spacing, 
of which the great masters of these countries 
had the secret, I was put out by the teeming 
Indian exuberance of Ajanta. But Ajanta shows 
many kinds of composition. Some of the paint- 
ings rather repel me still, others delight me 
more and more; and I can well imagine that 
entering from the hot sunshine into those dim 


16 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


temples and gradually adapting one’s eyes to 
the gloom, one would receive an immense, an 
overpowering impression of an art unmatched 
for its fullness, its spontaneity, its glow and 
diversity of living forms. Groups, lovely and 
animated in their natural movement and repose, 
single figures of strange majesty, of ineffable 
compassion, attract the eye and haunt the 
memory. One of the most unforgettable things 
is the group of the woman and child making 
offerings to the glorified Buddha, reproduced 
in this book from Mr. Mukul Dey’s copy. The 
eroup of the woman and child alone has been 
' illustrated both in Mr. Griffiths’s book and in 
the India Society’s publication; but, strange to 
say, with the great figure of the Buddha omitted, 
so that one could only guess at the motive 
inspiring the movement of the mother and her 
boy. For this alone we should owe a debt of 
gratitude to Mr. Dey. I remember no picture 
anywhere more profoundly impressive in gran- 
deur and in tenderness. Primitive these paint- 
ings might be called, in the sense that they are 
unsophisticated and fresh in their attack on 
pictorial problems; but what astonishing ease, 
what freedom from stiff, accepted formula these 
artists had! They have the kind of surprising 
instinctive mastery, unteased and unlaboured, 


Cc 17 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


that a gifted child will show in rendering forms 
and movements. 

Mr. Rothenstein, who is in peculiar sympathy 
with Indian art, has justly made the point that 
in China and Japan, Buddhism was a foreign 
religion, and Buddhist art came to these countries 
with a hieratic tradition already fixed and 
formulated. The Chinese and Japanese masters 
had a secular art of their own, but in their 
Buddhist works employed a special style; their 
paintings of the Buddhas and _ Bodhisattvas 
evoke mysterious and remote presences, of strange 
beauty and spiritual aspect, as if appearing out 
of the darkness above and apart from the troubled 
world of men. The Ajanta paintings are all 
Buddhist; are steeped in Buddhist faith and 
fervour; but here the divine is not divorced 
from the human, nor the spirit from the body. 
To these Indian artists, the Buddha and his 
disciples were Indians, men of their own race; 
they did not need to make a translation from 
foreign to familiar terms, as did the medieval 
Kuropean painters in depicting the Gospel story, 
in order to make the scenes intelligible. They 
painted a world in which their minds were at 
home. If you come to think of it, nearly all the 
religious art with which we are familiar is not 
in this case; it deals with far-off events, cir- 


18 


ES  — 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


eumstanced in surroundings neither known nor 
understood save through books. The paintings 
of Ajanta have frequently for subject the life 
of the Buddha in previous incarnations,—in 
the guise of elephant, deer or wild goose. Hence 
we see pictured the actual scenes that were 
before the painters’ eyes; the courts of princes, 
the throngs of servants, the musicians, the 
huntsmen, the dancing girls. The background 
of leafy nature is there; the animals and birds 
have been seen and studied with as much interest 
as the human forms. In the paintings of Bagh 
—or in what little remains of them—the motives 
seem still more “ worldly”? and gay. There is 
a circle of girl musicians in one of the Bagh 
caves, which is quite astounding in its freshness 
of ease and power; it is (to judge from the 
drawing reproduced here, facing page 237) like a 
very modern painting, yet with something that 
our modern painting lacks, 

These Indian pictures were all of religious 
inspiration. Probably to the artists the religious 
import seemed everything; their conscious en- 
deavour was concentrated upon that. Design, 
colour, composition, all the purely artistic ele- 
ments of their work, were left to the more 
intuitive activities of the mind. From this, I 
think, comes the happiness of their art; it is 


6 


19 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


not self-conscious; it solves difficult problems 
not by scientifically working out a theory but 
simply—ambulando. Our most modern art 
tortures itself in its austere quest of a purely 
eesthetic aim. But it is a perplexing paradox of 
human nature that to choose a certain aim and 





consciously pursue it rarely ends in perfect 
accomplishment of that aim; if the aim is 
reached it is at the cost of impoverishment. 

If one were asked to put into one word the 
secret of these paintings,—-the secret of their 
continuing power to impress and charm us— 
one might well answer life ; for they affect us in 
the same way that the living movements of 
men and women, children, and animals affect 
us ;. with a deep content and unconscious sym- 
pathy. And it is not merely a sort of extract 
from hfe that they yield—a mood of pleasure, 
a mood of sadness or bitterness, a mood of 
devotion or a mood of frivolity,—it is just life 
itself, all life, with its joyous impulses of body 
and spirit, the forward stride of adventure, 
the haltings of the mind and turns upon itself, 
its abandonment to sorrow, its renunciations, 
its victories. The fruit of Buddhist doctrine, 
it seems, is not negation but an experience of 
what Professor Anesaki, in his interpretation 
of Buddhist art, calls ‘‘ The Communion of 


20 


EE ee 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Life,’ which is the escaping from the prison 
and pain of self. 

The cave-temples of Ajanta, as the reader will 
realize from Mr. Mukul Dey’s vivid account of 
his pilgrimage thither, are not easy of access, 
and present all sorts of discomforts and even 
dangers—from tigers and the stings of wild 
bees—as a sort of trial and initiation. I am 
glad that even millionaires cannot charm away 
these obstacles; they too must submit to this 
test of the reality of their desire to see these 
famous works. Perhaps it were well that other 
ereat works of art were guarded in some such 
manner from the impertinent patronage of the 
profane. 

Mr. Dey went to Ajanta and Bagh in the 
spirit of a pilgrim. He is one of those Indians 
who seek to revive the art of India in the Indian 
spirit. And it is to Ajanta that the modern 
Indian artist rightly turns, or should turn, 
for there is nothing really antiquated in those 
frescoes, they still radiate life; they show what 
the Indian genius could achieve on a grand 
scale in the past, and may achieve again. 
Indians in general take far too little interest 
in their own art, whether ancient or contem- 
porary. They should realise that through 
painting and sculpture, in which mankind in- 


21 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


stinctively embodies its deepest thoughts and 
ideals, a race speaks to the world in a language 
needing no translation. All over the world 
is a newly-stirred curiosity and interest in the 
art of India. We look to Indians to honour 
their art and their artists; to cherish the great 
monuments of the past and to foster the gifts 
of the living; for art, if it is to enjoy the fulness 
and glory of expression, needs the co-opera- 
tion of the whole people out of which it comes. 


LAURENCE BINYON. 


22 


mrt HiOR’'S’ PREFACE 


How can I sufficiently express my gratitude 
to the friends who helped me write this book ? 

Within the sacred rock-temples of Ajanta 
and Bagh abide in darkness and neglect gods 
and goddesses; Buddhas and monks; kings 
and queens; courtiers and hunters; musicians 
and dancing girls; animals and flowers. 

Two thousand years ago they were carved 
in the rock or painted on the wall. Every 
day as dusk approaches, the rays of the dying 
sun penetrate for a brief while the caverns. 
The. figures in the carvings and the frescoes 
flush into a semblance of life, the mighty sun,— 
the source of all vitality—reminds them that 
he at least has not forgotten them. 

Kven so to me, working and ransacking 
memories in this cold and foggy climate of 
England, in a shelter by a hot fire-side, hard 
put to it sometimes to keep body and soul alive, 
the kindness of my friends has come like the 
sovereign touch of the sun to the darkness at 
Ajanta, and has warmed my heart and revived 
many scenes and incidents. 


23 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


My grateful thanks are due to Mr. Kallianjee 
Curumsey, of Bombay, who owns the copies 
of the wall-paintings which I made in the caves 
and has taken immense trouble in sending 
them to England in order that they might be 
reproduced for this book. 

My heartfelt acknowledgments are also owing 
to Messrs. Johnston & Hoffmann, of Calcutta ; 
to Dr. F. W. Thomas, the librarian of the Indian 
Office, for his valuable assistance; to Mr. F. J. 
Richter, the Hon. Secretary of The India 
Society; to all who gave me permission to 
make use of the photographs of the caves and 
frescoes and particularly some of Lady Herring- 
ham’s copies of works at the Ajanta caves. 

I am also indebted to the book of James 
Fergusson and Dr. Burgess on the Cave 
Temples of India, from which I have taken some 
valuable information. 

To friends who not only encouraged me in 
various ways in my effort but patiently en- 
deavoured to put my wild English into some sort 
of shape, my sincerest thanks are due: Mr. 
Laurence Binyon, Miss Eve Maggs, Mr. & Mrs. 
Louis F. Fergusson, Professor Selwyn Image, 
Mr. Thomas Sturge Moore, the Misses Dorothy 
Larcher, Elsie Maggs, Ida A. R. Wylie, Rachel 
Barrett, Mr. Eddie Whaley, Mr. Henry Clifford 


24 


Mi its n 


> te, * 


My Palgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Mages, Mr. Muirhead Bone, Mr. Lionel G. 
Pearson, Mr. & Mrs. Eliot Druce, Mr. & Mrs. 
A. R. Smith, and my great brother artists, 
Srijukta Nanda lal Basu and Surendra Nath Kar. 

On many occasions during this literary voyage 
the seas have been rough, though at other 
times I sailed with winds that favoured my 
course. Almost within sight of the coast to- 
wards which my hopes were directed my vessel 
ran aground in shallow waters. On an early 
autumn morning while I despaired two 
pilots came aboard and steered my little ship 
to safety, and soon I perceived the faint black 
line of the shore through the mist. To these 
pilots, Miss Elsie M, C. Druce and Mr. W. E. 
** Pussyfoot ” Johnson, my heart overflows with 
eratitude, for without them I could never have 
reached the harbour. 


Mecklenburgh Square, 
London, W.C. 


25 


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NG OF SHRIN 


CEILI 


CAVE I. 





‘£1 OL I SHAVD DNIMOHS 
‘SHAVO VINV[V AO MIA TYYANAD 





MY PILGRIMAGES TO 
AJANTA AND BAGH 


CHAPTER ONE 
MY FIRST PILGRIMAGE TO AJANTA 


In Western India, in the heart of the lonely 
Bindha Hills, in the State of Hyderabad, near 
the village of Ajanta, there exists a shrine of 
Religion and Art, which from time immemorial 
has attracted pilgrims and students, in spite of 
its remoteness. This shrine consists of the 
Ajanta caves and the wealth of ancient art and 
- architecture in which they abound. 

As a young boy, Art fascinated me, and I 
was ever hearing about these famous caves and 
their marvellous frescoes. Even then I deter- 
mined that one day I would visit them myself, 
and begin, what I hoped would be the study 
of the art-work of all nationalities, by the study 
of the ancient Buddhist arts of India. On 
leaving school I thought many a time of trying 
to journey to Ajanta; but when I expressed 
this desire to my friends I met with little en- 
eouragement. They laughed at the project and 


27 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


warned me of all the perils from robbers and 
thieves which I should encounter by the way 
in the jungle. They threatened me with tigers 
and snakes, with cholera and plague—nay, even 
with starvation, as there would be great diffi- 
culty in procuring food in a dry desert-like land 
amongst the poverty-stricken Mahomedan 
villagers. 

I was young and poor, and I had no money 
whatever with which to carry out my ideas for 
this long journey of over a thousand miles 
from my home in Bengal. But I did not give 
up my ambition; I kept it before me steadily 
for many years. Being somewhat an artist, I 
was able to earn a little money, and I set about 
sketching portraits for a very few rupees each, 
till by the end of the year 1917 I had saved about 
two hundred and fifty rupees. I then set out 
for the caves, my luggage consisting of an 
attaché case with a few drawing materials and 
toilet necessaries, and a blanket under my 
arm. Third-class travel in India is cheap. <A 
third-class ticket from Howrah station, Cal- 
cutta, to Jalgaon station by the Bombay mail 
on the Bengal-Nagpur Railway, a distance of 
about a thousand miles, cost me just over a 
pound (£1). 

From Howrah station the train went through 


28 





My First Pilgrumage to Ajanta 


typically Bengali villages of straw-thatched 
houses, with banana trees growing amongst 
the thick bushes, and acres of bamboo and 
bettle-nut groves. Tiny ancient ponds, covered 
with thick green slime, in which the ducks were 
busily seeking their food were on every hand. 
Steps of old brick led down to the water. All 
along the line children playing in the roads 
stopped to gaze at our train, and women were 
busy at their household work. On we sped 
through shadowy green villages with cocoanut 
and mango groves, and the bright red sun was 
setting as we entered the flat ricefield plains, 
dotted here and there with a few dark trees 
sharply silhouetted against the flaming sky. 
I sat at my window, gazing out and enjoying 
the scenery through which I was passing. 

I was travelling in the European third-class 
compartment. There is almost always a Euro- 
pean compartment on the Indian trains, but to 
travel in it a man, no matter what his race, 
need only wear European dress. I occupied a 
whole bunk for my night’s sleep in great com- 
fort. 

There was one other man in my compart- 
ment; what his nationality was I could not 
guess, but he told me he was a dealer in Oriental 
and Egyptian antiques, had a shop in Calcutta, 


29 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and was going on a short visit on business to 
Bombay. We soon became friends, and he 
showed me a few objects of virtu he had with 
him in his trunk, especially some Persian hand- 
bags, which were richly embroidered in gold, 
red and green. Amongst his treasures I found 
an old Egyptian seal of red stone dating from 
five to seven centuries B.c. He was delighted 
to sell this to me for two rupees, and it was 
constantly with me, until recently in London 
I thought I would have it mounted as a ring, 
but, alas, the jeweller to whom [I took it broke 
the stone. 

Next morning, on our arrival at Nagpur, an 
altogether strange sight met my eyes. The 
platform and the approach to the station were 
swarming with orange sellers, who had baskets 
heaped up with oranges on their heads, shoul- 
ders, and in their hands, loudly shouting their 
wares, Everyone buys oranges in Nagpur as 
a duty, it is so famous for them, and they are a 
bargain. For a rupee (about 1s. 4d.) one can 
get a score of large ones. It was really 
beautiful to see this lovely fruit in such pro- 
fusion, and I hastened to buy some for myself. 

The mail train does not loiter on the way, 
but here it stopped for half-an-hour. Though 
I was travelling in the European compart- 


30 





My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


ment in European dress, I carried with me an 
Indian cap, which I hardly ever wore except in 
the cities. I was careful not to make use of 
it in the train, for whenever we stopped at a 
station the other Eurasians and Anglo-Indian 
passengers, of whom there were four or five, 
put on their solar topees to guard the door 
from any native intruder. 

But now at the last moment a dark, middle- 
aged Marathi gentleman with his wife, followed 
by a coolie with bundles of luggage on his head, 
hurriedly entered our compartment. Two of 
my travelling companions tried to prevent their 
entry; but the newcomer was very strong 
and energetic, and, by dint of a certain amount 
of force, successfully stormed the stronghold 
and occupied a seat, adjuring his wife in the 
Marathi language not to budge an inch what- 
ever happened. I knew what he meant, but kept 
quiet, and watched for the march of events. 
Then two of the Anglo-Indians left the train and 
reported matters to the stationmaster and the 
guard. These officials duly appeared; the 
guard a European, the stationmaster an Indian. 
They invited the newcomers to vacate the 
carriage, promising to find them seats in another 
part of the train. But the husband was 
adamant: “I’m not going to move from my 


31 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


seat. You can do what you like. I know the 
rule all right, and I know a case like this hap- 
pened before, and it went up to the High Court 
at Bombay. So I know what I am doing 
because I am a pleader!’’ By that time a small 
crowd had gathered, and a policeman arrived on 
the spot. I was enjoying the fun, and watched 
with excitement to see who would win. But 
time was up, the train could not wait any longer, 
and nothing could be done. The guard whistled 
and waved his green flag, the train started, the 
stationmaster quietly grumbled to himself, and 
the audience on the platform gave us a rousing 
cheer. The intruders were left victoriously in 
possession, looking immensely pleased with 
themselves. Theirs was not a long _ jour- 
ney, however, and by nightfall they had reached 
their destination. 

It was a cold, wintry month, and especially 
so in that part of India. As it grew very bitter 
during the night, I took my rug out of the 
parcel and wrapped myself in it. The train 
ultimately arrived at Jalgaon, the nearest rail- 
way station for the caves, at half-past two 
on a pitch dark morning. The journey from 
Calcutta had been nine hundred and sixty 
two miles. As I had not much luggage with 
me, I enquired of one of the station porters 


32 








My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


whether I could get a tanga to start off for 
the Ajanta caves at once. 

The people of this part are Marathas, and 
they only speak that language. Besides Ben- 
gali I could speak a little Hindustani, and 
somehow I made my porter understand my 
wish; but he asked me to wait for the morning 
light, assuring me that I should get a con- 
veyance in time. However, I was impatient 
and went to the stationmaster to explain my 
intention. He confirmed what the porter had 
told me, adding that if the tourists and visitors 
intending to visit these caves would inform 
him or the mamlatdar (village headman, locally 
called “patel’’) beforehand, proper tangas 
could be engaged. Some of the rich tourists 
bring their own motor cars with them and do 
the journey to the caves in an hour or two; 
but that being impossible for me, I had to 
wait patiently until morning broke. 

My old porter pointed out to me a group 
of men chatting round a fire outside the station, 
as they waited for daybreak; these were the 
tanga men. One of them agreed to take me 
for twenty-six rupees, which was more than 
I had paid to come up to Jalgaon from Calcutta, 
and in the early dawn we started off for the 
caves. 


D 33 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


This being my first tour in Western India, 
I noticed many differences in the scenery, as 
the eastern sky hghtened from minute to minute. 
The villagers were not yet awake, but gradually 
a few people appeared here and there on the 
road, crossing from one side to the other, washing 
themselves, or going to work. They wore 
coloured turbans, especially red, like yards of 
thick rope wound round their heads. 

The houses in the villages were also quite 
different from those in Bengal. They were 
squat constructions, built of stone, brick and 
mud, with angular roofs decorated with black 
and red tiles; while the Bengal huts have 
thatched roofs, which hunch like a frightened 
eat’s back, and the plain mud walls look much 
nicer among the masses of green vegetation. 
On my left were some Hindu temples (derived 
from the type of Bodh Gaya) with beautiful 
round carvings on the top. It was a cold but 
very refreshing morning, and I wrapped myself 
up in my rug. 

As we were going slowly through the village 
I saw a woman carrying milk on her head, and 
pouring it out into pots at the doors of some 
of the houses along the road. I enquired of 
my tanga man whether I could get a glass of 
milk to drink. He replied, “Oh yes, if you 


34 


My Furst Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


wish.” He ealled the milk-seller, who came, 
saying, “ But how will you drink?” I brought 
out my folding glass, at which she seemed very 
surprised and smiled. She was a_ beautiful 
young woman, wearing long, delicate ear-rings, 
a rich red choli on which tiny pieces of mirror 
sparkled in the sunshine, and a skirt of in- 
numerable folds. She was very lovely indeed, 
and reminded me of our old legend of Radha 
of Brindaban and the Gopi girls. After finish- 
ing my milk, I searched for my camera, in- 
tending to take a snapshot of her, but she dis- 
appeared, saying she had much to do before 
the other people woke up, and after that she 
had to go with the rest to work in the fields. 

By this time we had reached the end of the 
village, and my tangaman suddenly stopped 
the cart and alighted. But he soon came back, 
‘bearing a load of straw and corn for his horse 
and some food for himself, not having known 
beforehand that he would have to make such 
a long journey that day. He said to me: 
“You also will get something to eat later on 
in some village on the way.”’ 

The sun had risen and was shining radiantly 
as we started up the lonely road at the rate 
of three or four miles an hour. This, in an 
age of swift motors, must appear rather slow 


30 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


progress, but those sturdy little horses will 
cover as much as forty miles in a day at this 
leisurely pace. The road was quite good, 
broad, and bordered on either side with numerous 
nim, banyan, ashath and babla trees. 

The tanga is a funny kind of cart drawn 
by small ponies. The passenger has to sit 
behind the driver in a sort of box, which pro- 
tects him from falling out as the tanga jolts 
along or takes sharp corners over the hills and 
downs. It is two-wheeled, lke the bullock 
cart; the wheels have iron bands, and there 
are no springs. As it runs it makes a terrible 
noise; one can neither speak nor hear, and 
soon a gripping pain spreads over the body. 
In this way we traversed the villages and ghats 
(as roads up a steep incline are called in the 
Marathi dialect). 

By about ten in the morning we arrived at a 
village called Neri, which stands on a beautiful 
little river of the same name. Here the women 
were cleaning their brass and copper jars before 
filling them with water. We crossed the river 
at the little ford, and arrived at the gateway 
in the ancient wall which surrounds the village. 
Houses are built on this wall—of old Hindu 
architectural design with beautiful carved doors 
and balconies; and there are numbers of Hindu 


36 








THE VILLAGE AND RIVER NERI. 








DESCENDING A GHAT ON THE WAY TO AJANTA. 


aC Decl Va) 
‘SHMNDIA ONIATA JO SdNOUD ‘Kyavo0g vipuy ayy fo worssuusagd Aq 





My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


temples. While crossing the river I heard that 
there was a bazaar where I could buy some 
food; but when we arrived in the village I 
observed that almost all the doors were shut, 
wild dogs were roaming about, and the whole 
place was deserted. There had been a plague 
scare, and all the inhabitants had fled. It 
was a good thing I had bought my glass of 
milk from the girl at Jalgaon. 

While passing through this deserted village 
I noticed beautiful carvings and decorative 
designs on the wooden doors, and by the steps 
leading to the temples and houses, as well as 
perforated and carved windows on the _ bal- 
conies. It was sad to see this charming village 
with all the houses locked up, and wearing such 
an air of unusual desolation, in spite of the 
elorious sunshine. 

Leaving the village, as soon as we found 
ourselves in the open country, to my amaze- 
ment, we came upon hundreds of tiny huts 
clumsily made of palmyra leaves, all huddled 
together about a couple of hundred yards away. 
These contained the inhabitants, who had fled 
with all their children and livestock. 

After we left Neri, the farther we went the 
barer became the land. There was hardly a 
stick of vegetation visible, and the whole ground 


37 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


was of a rich golden-brown tint. The road 
here is very lonely and but occasionally do 
you meet a few people, or some squeaking 
bullock carts laden with cotton, hay or wood, 
creeping slowly along. In the distance could be 
seen some straggling villages consisting for the 
most part of but a few houses each. These 
houses bear a curious resemblance to solid 
blocks of clay, the roof being flat and low, like a 
lid. ; | 

This road to the south is one of the ancient 
highways of the world, and in my imagination 
I could see the countless hordes of Aryans, and 
armed Mahomedan invaders, who passed this 
way to the conquest of Southern India. Most 
stirring of all to me, however, was the thought 
of the great stream of Buddhist pilgrims, not only 
from India but from far off China, to whom this 
road had been the sacred way to the Ajanta 
caves. It thrilled me to realize that I too formed 
part of this unending procession, and to believe 
that unending processions would still follow me. 
All along the road we were continually starting 
up herds of black buck and deer, which fled on 
our approach, while wild doves rose in pairs. 

At last we saw on the horizon the long ranges 
of the Bindha Hills of the Dekkan, and my 
tangaman said: ‘“ The lenas (lena means cave) 


38 


My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


are there in those hills.’ Through this district 
we crossed and re-crossed a river called the 
Baghora, which has its source in the Ajanta 
caves. ‘The small village of Fardapur was not 
very far: it is the first village of the Nizam’s 
State of Hyderabad. At last, just before sun- 
set, we arrived at Fardapur, and beyond this 
village could be seen on our right the little 
dak-bungalow, where my tangaman wanted to 
take me, but I insisted that he should take me 
first to the caves. He told me that he could 
not do this, as the road would shortly become 
very bad. 

Soon we came to a point where the road 
descends to the river, dotted with boulders and 
impossible for the tanga to cross. So I settled 
with the driver and proceeded on foot to the 
caves. On my way I came across a small white 
tent occupied by some official Mussulmans. One 
of them told me he was the curator of the caves, 
and said it was too late an hour to go to them, 
but I turned a deaf ear to his protests and con- 
tinued on my way. All along I made my 
way over the jungle road, now leaping from 
boulder to boulder, now threading my way 
cautiously through the tangled undergrowth of 
dense vegetation. Some of these boulders are 
marked with a bright vermilion splash or a 


39 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


roughly drawn figure, which are objects of devo- 
tion to the neighbouring Hindu hill tribes. 
Amongst the black boulders grew some mowah 
trees, which were the only species I could recog- 
nise. Evening was drawing in, all was silent, save 
for the rustling of the little night birds and animals 
who wake up at that hour for their nocturnal 
wanderings. Suddenly I heard distinctly the 
sound of marching footsteps which seemed to 
be approaching me. From afar I saw a band 
of people, who proved to be Japanese, marching 
like soldiers one behind the other, with tight 
bandages on their legs, wearing a peculiar white 
dress and crowned with white solar topees. 
Amongst them was my friend Mr. Kampo Arai, 
a well-known Japanese artist, whom I had 
previously met in Japan. He was very much 
astonished to see me alone, and wondered how 
I got there! He introduced me to one of his 
friends, Mr. Sawamura (who is now professor 
at Kyoto Imperial University in Japan), and 
asked me whether I would join them as it was 
getting so late, but I said, ‘‘ No; I would like 
to see the caves first. I have travelled all 
this way and must see the caves before I do 
anything else,’ and I asked him for a few direc- 
tions: how far it was, which was the best road 
to pursue and so forth. He said, “ All right, 


4.0 


“AayoAvT AyJoAo” SStPy Aq Séu1gvA, UOG4VI WOs 
‘LI HAV) ‘£1 HAVO 


idVaH Smal ‘dNOUD AVOOAA GNV NAANO “ONIM 


ewe e st | 
= aS 


* 
td 
e 9 





‘QZ OL OI SHAVD DNIMOHS 
‘SHAVO VINV[V AHL AO ASHWITD LSU 






My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


I had better come along with you,” for being 
an artist himself, he understood my anxiety. 
After all, the caves were not very far, and crossing 
the same river Baghora twice again, Mr. Arai 
took me through a short cut and said, ‘“ You 
will soon see them now.” 

It is impossible for me to make my reader 
realize my feelings when I first saw the site of 
the caves. I was spell-bound. The natural 
splendour of the scene, its utter seclusion, the 
amphitheatre of hills enclosing the glen with 
a rugged rampart, shaped like a crescent moon, 
the little murmuring stream which flowed so 
gently through a landscape of such wild gran- 
deur—all affected me deeply. As I looked 
more closely I perceived that out of the stone, 
which was of a glorious tinge of bluish mauve, 
had been hewn richly carved arches and columns, 
and that these formed the entrance to a series 
of cave-temples surpassing all that I had 
imagined. My companion and I remained for 
long in silent ecstasy. I felt completely satisfied. 
Just this one vision repaid the trouble of my 
journey a thousandfold. 

All the way back to the bungalow, I talked 
to him of the magnificence of the things J had 
seen. Meanwhile I could hear the monkeys 
chattering, and saw them leaping and playing 


41 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


together high up on the side of the hills. My 
friend agreed with me, and said that it was 
the greatest and most wonderful thing he had 
ever seen in his life, and he thought himself 
lucky to be able to remain there for some time, 
copying the frescoes. Then later on he said 
to me: “‘ Though we have only one little room 
for ourselves we will manage to put you up 
and you will have your meals with us.” I was 
lucky to get this splendid invitation, which I 
at once accepted. So as soon as we arrived at 
the bungalow, my friend introduced me again 
in proper Japanese manner to his friend, Prof. 
Sentaro Sawamura, the leader of the party, and 
to all the other artists who came from Japan to 
copy the frescoes. 

There were five or six of them sleeping in one 
room, and seeing the difficulty of an additional 
inmate, I said, “I don’t mind sleeping on 
the floor, or in any hole or corner.”” So I tucked 
myself away in a little lean-to by the side of 
the bathroom (which was Prof. Sawamura’s 
photographic dark room), in a cot (char-paya) 
which they had managed to borrow from the 
servants, and Araisan gave me one of his blan- 
kets, to which I added my own, and my attaché 
case served me as a pillow. Thus my bed was 
made. There were only two rooms in this 


42 


My First Pilgrimage to Ajanta 


small bungalow, and the second one was occu- 
pied by two other Japanese artists of quite a 
different establishment, who had also come 
at that time, on their own account, to copy some 
of the frescoes. It seemed to me that these 
two parties regarded one another with con- 
siderable indifference. Prof. Sawamura could 
speak a little English, but none of the others 
could except Araisan, who knew just a few 
words. However, by dumb show and pointing 
we succeeded in making ourselves understood. 
While I was washing, before joining the 
party at supper, the awful smell of their soup 
and food made me quite ill; the fare, indeed, 
was really the least palatable I had ever tasted, 
and reminded me of my saddest days in Japan, 
while travelling in that country with Dr. Tagore. 
But after a whole day’s journey in the hot 
sun, in a jolting tanga without any meal, I was 
naturally hungry and thirsty, and I rejoiced 
in having my rice with tea-water, and was 
very grateful for what they did for me. We 
soon hastened to bed, and thanking them all, 
I said Good-night. Prof. Sawamura said: “‘ We 
hope to see you all right to-morrow morning.” 
And Araisan asked me to close my window 
tight, as the tigers and panthers were wont 
to wander round the bungalow during the night. 


43 


CHAPTER TWO 
A GENERAL DESCRIPTION OF THE CAVES 


EARLY next morning after a hurried breakfast 
we all set out for the caves, the sun shining 
gloriously ; the day, however, being still cool. 
Talking with my Japanese friends as we trudged 
along, I learnt that the caves were between 
four and five miles south-west of the bungalow 
which we were at present occupying. The 
Iardapur village is the first border village of 
the Nizam’s dominions; Ajanta is an old village 
lying north-west of Aurangabad, situated on 
top of the Bindha hills, which divide the pro- 
vince of Khandesh from the Dekkan. The 
population consists chiefly of Mussulmans and 
Hindus, who during many generations have 
lived amicably side by side. The village of 
Ajanta, being larger and more important than 
Fardapur, has given its name to the caves, and 
is now becoming famous throughout the whole 
world for its wealth of art treasures. 

It is interesting to know how the caves, 
having lain hidden for about a thousand years, 
were re-discovered only a century ago, and re- 
vealed to the world generally. 


4h 


A General Description of the Caves 


In the year 1819 a British officer, retired 
from the Madras Army, was out alone in the 
jungle close to the Ajanta village, hunting 
round for tigers. Unsuccessful, he wound his 
way on and on through the wild stony tracks. 
Having pursued for some time his haphazardous 
course, and imagining himself far enough from 
all human beings, he was surprised to hear but 
a little way off a boy’s shrill voice. Hastening 
his steps, the captain soon came up to a young 
herdsman talking to his herd of half-wild buffa- 
loes in the middle of the jungle. 

The boy, seeing a sahib, and consequently 
thinking to earn a little tip if he should show 
him the actual home of the tigers, led him a 
little way off from where he was standing and, 
pointing above the trees, said: “‘ Look, sahib.” 
Following eagerly with his eyes the boy’s ex- 
tended arm, he saw through the thick green 
foliage a little golden-red colour peering between 
a few mauve carved pillars or columns. 

The captain, intensely excited, feeling him- 
self to be about to make an important archeo- 
logical discovery, sent immediately to the 
village for men to come with torches and drums, 
with axes and spears, to hew down the tangled 
clusters that throttled up the entrance to the 
caves. Thus a clearing was made in the jungle, 


45 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and a passage forced into these long-forgotten 
city temples, which had flourished from about 
the third century B.c. to the seventh century 
A.D. 

We were following a rough and narrow track, 
passing innumerable little valleys in which one 
might have found many a spot most suitable and 
convenient for pitching a tent amidst mag- 
nificent scenes; most suitable, that is, if one 
disregards the nightly visits of snakes and pan- 
thers. Clambering over rough boulders and 
jumping across streams, we made our way 
towards the caves as hastily as the uncertain 
route permitted. Having crossed the con- 
stantly winding little river Baghora for about 
the fourth or fifth time, we arrived at the foot 
of the ancient stone staircase which leads to 
the caves. 

The Japanese artists always used the. ancient 
ascent to the caves rather than the modern 
short cut, which leads from the eastern side, 
somewhat steeply to cave 1, the most recently 
constructed of all the caves. 

After ascending some hundred of these worn 
and broken stairs we came to the cave marked 
7, the numeral glaringly conspicuous in black 
paint on a white square, just a soulless identifi- 
cation mark, quite inappropriate to either the age 


46 


A General Description of the Caves 


or nature of the caves. About thirty years or so 
ago the official surveyors had numbered the caves 
concurrently from east to west, like houses or 
shops in a street. 

The artists now all scattered into different 
caves; but I followed the leading artist, my 
friend Araisan, who was copying a great piece 
of fresco for his country, The Temptation of 
Buddha, in cave 1. We passed caves 6, 5, and 
so on till we came to 1, when suddenly he took 
off his topi and stood reverently in front of the 
intensely dark entrance. Instead of going 
straight to the Buddha at the far end, he walked 
slowly up the left aisle, gazing at the frescoes high 
up on the walls; and, having come at last to the 
altar, he bowed many times to the large cross- 
legged Buddha, and afterwards took off his 
puttees, and by undoing his sash let down his 
long white robes, so that now he looked like an 
artist-monk. 

All this time we had been seeing one another 
like ghosts in the subdued light, but suddenly 
Araisan said: ‘‘ Now light,” and began to pump 
air into a great big cylinder which was connected 
with a hanging lamp on a tall three-legged stand. 
He lit this lamp, and I joined in pumping for 
half-an-hour or so, in order to get a bright flame. 
So gradually the great Buddha became visible, 


AT 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and as the flame brightened I saw the fresco 
Araisan was copying. 

I was stunned but extremely happy when I 
first saw the paintings, for I felt that they 
had been done with the utmost care, and yet, I 
thought hereafter I would be able to cover 
similarly large pieces of walls by myself, in 
the same way. I actually fell in love with 
many; in fact with all of the paintings on the 
walls, especially some of the beautiful paintings 
of the most lovely women. 

Over the fresco of the famous Buddha’s 
Temptation that Araisan was copying hung four 
or five pieces of thin Japanese paper, which later 
on he would join together. For a little while 
I watched him, then stole away, eager to see 
the other wonders. 3 

Wandering from cave to cave, I found myself 
in an ancient world of Buddhist palaces, tem- 
ples and halls. The walls, ceilings and columns 
were covered. with wonderful paintings and 
decorations. The idea of natural caves dis- 
appeared from my mind altogether; and it 
was beyond my comprehension to have imagined 
their grandeur, unless I had seen them for 
myself, 

There are twenty-nine cave temples in all, 
hewn out of solid pieces of living rock, which 


43 


A General Description of the Caves 


have now become the home of wild beasts 
and bats. These marvellous temples and 
monasteries date probably from a little before 
the reign of the great Buddhist Kmperor of 
India, Asoka (272-231 B.c.), to just before the 
expulsion of Buddhism from India, about 600 
A.D. to 700 A.D. 

They were visited by generations of pious 
travellers and pilgrims eager for knowledge, 
who came not only from Persia, Greece and 
Asia Minor, but from far-off China; travellers, 
such as Heuen Tsang, Fa-Heen and others, 
came there to study the way, to learn the life 
and teaching of Gautama Buddha, as well 
as to enrich the temples with their precious 
cifts. 

In these twenty-nine caves at Ajanta, are four 
completed chaitya chapels, numbers 9, 10, 19 
and 26; and one, 28, was begun but never 
finished. ‘‘ Chaitya ’ means the buildings 
used by Buddhist monks for united worship. 
A dome-shaped Buddhist shrine, called “‘ stupa,”’ 
containing relics, occupies the place of the 
altar in all the four chaityas at Ajanta, and 
it is the most sacred of all. 

The remaining twenty-five are biharas. 
~ Bihara ” means a Buddhist monastery. Each 
of these consists of a central hall with small 


E — 49 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


cells opening into it and a great sanctuary on 
its longest side, just opposite the main door 
entrance, with pillared aisles, nave, baranda 
and cells. This sanctuary contains a colossal 
Buddha. Seven of the rock-cut temples at 
Ajanta were never finished; they are numbered 
3, 14, 23, 24, 27, 28 and 29. 

About the time of Asoka, between the third 
and second century B.c., the first two caves 
were excavated, 10 and 9. These were wor- 
shipping chapels. But living quarters were 
needed for the priests, monks and_ students, 
and so the caves 7, 8, 11, 12 and 13 were cut out 
eradually afterwards, and this is the way the 
monastery was first built up. 

The scenery everywhere round about here 
is most wild and beautiful. From the baranda 
(veranda) of cave 17, you can look down upon the 
river bed, which curves away to the waterfalls 
at the extreme end of the right-hand corner 
of the caves, and in the monsoon becomes a 
mighty torrent. It runs from the head of the 
valley above the caves and terminates abruptly 
in a waterfall of seven leaps, the last may be of 
from 70 to 80 feet. The place is known locally as 
Sat-kund, or the seven pools, these receive the 
several falls, the lowest is a small deep lake and 
full of fish. 


50 


9c aAV) SNIMOHS 
"ADNOD VINVIV AHL 





KING BIMBISARA, HIS QUEEN, AND 
ATTENDANTS SEATED WITHIN A 
PALACE PAVILION. 

CAVE 17. 





JATAKA SCENE, WITH HORSEMAN, YOGI, ETC. 
CAVE 17. 





By permission of the India Society. 


A General Description of the Caves 


In the evening I went back to the bungalow 
with my Japanese friend for the night’s rest. 
But for days I continued under the spell of this 
magical scenery and magical art. 

It is impossible for anyone who has not seen 
them with his own eyes to realise how great 
and solid the paintings in the caves are; how 
wonderful in their simplicity and_ religious 
fervour; yet almost all are suffering from 
many kinds of damage, apart from the inevit- 
able decay produced by some thousand years 
of neglect. Numerous kinds of animals and 
birds make their home in these caves; bats, 
owls, swallows, wild bees, and even wild parrots 
and pigeons, which continually drop their lime 
over the walls on the paintings. Human beings, 
civilised and uncivilised, such as Sadhus and 
Sanyasis, have cooked their meals and made 
their fires in the caves, till the smoke has 
blackened their walls. Visitors have scratched 
and scribbled their names, and European 
visitors have cut away pieces of the frescoes or 
tried to do so. An interesting fragment of 
fresco, about a foot square, showing portions of 
various figures, probably part of a Jataka scene 
from cave 16, dating from about the fifth century 
A.D., was removed and brought to England 
by the late Captain Williams of Hampstead ; 


ol 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and, a few years ago was put up for auction 


at Sotheby’s sale rooms in New Bond Street, 
where it fetched £1,000. It is now in the Museum 
of Fine Arts at Boston, U.S.A. It is sad to see 
how the frescoes have been damaged; the disfigur- 
ing marks of penknives are all too visible. From 
time to time British official artists who were 
engaged in copying the frescoes, varnished them 
with the very cheapest kind of varnish, and as 
a result the paintings have grown blacker day 
by day almost to the point of a dead black and 
ruination; for when the varnish dried up the 
plaster on the walls cracked, and the outer 
films of the paintings peeled off. Further, on 
every inch of the wall-paintings divers kinds 
of insects have made their habitation and bitten 
the paint and plaster. 

From about eight or nine o’clock in the morn- 
ing until evening I found these Japanese artists 
keenly absorbed in making the most faith- 
ful records of the frescoes for their country, 
and Prof. Sawamura busily engaged in tak- 


ing photographs and plans. He also took 


thousands of impressions of the carvings and 
decorative designs on the columns and pillars, 
on specially made thin paper, which was damped 
and pressed down on the carved designs by a 
soft dabber, and black ink dabbed on the sur- 


52 


A General Description of the Caves 


face of the paper. I helped him at this work 
many times as a token of my appreciation of 
his and his friends’ kind hospitality. Now I 
hear from Prof. Sawamura, who is in London, 
that all the copies of Ajanta paintings they made 
have been destroyed in the last earthquake in 
Japan except his own collection of carving- 
impressions ; and also he told me that he is 
contemplating another visit to the Ajanta caves 
in a few years’ time, for a long stay. 

The halls and monasteries and chapels were 
made for the purpose of great Buddhist uni- 
versities and monasteries where pilgrims and 
scholars might study Art, Religion and Philo- 
sophy; and they served as dwelling-places for 
monks and guests, who came from far distant 
lands, such as North-West Asia and China, to 
study and worship there. The pictures and 
sculptures adorning them are all connected with, 
and illustrate Buddha’s life and previous in- 
carnation from stories in Jataka tales. 

These Japanese artists, who were Buddhists, 
were so devoted in copying what they saw and 
so engrossed in their task that I never heard 
them murmur a word while they were at work, 
and I was very sorry I was not able to start 
working myself; but I had not yet obtained 
permission from the Nizam’s Government to 


338 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


copy the frescoes. After seeing these wonder- 
ful paintings and noting how eagerly the Japanese 
artists were making faithful copies for their 
country, and how their Government and art 
patrons had equipped them, I could not help 
thinking what a great pity it was that the 
British Government or wealthy Indians took 
no interest whatever in educating their country- 
men by getting these paintings copied for their 
museums, art schools and colleges, and other 
educational establishments in India. Un- 
fortunately, these marvellous groups of caves, 
being in the Mahomedan territory, were over- 
looked until very recently. Probably in the 
near future we shall have to go to England, 
Japan, America or elsewhere to see our own 
ancient art instead of being able, as one should 
be, to study it at home in India; for so quickly 
is it becoming ruined, that we shall lose it all 
sooner or later; or should a great earthquake 
happen, we should lose it quicker still. I made 
up my mind, therefore, that I certainly must 
copy some of these glorious things before they 
were all gone. I soon realised, however, that 
it was a big and very difficult task to fulfil, and, 
as [had discovered, one in which no one was likely 
to help me. So with this idea I made up my 
mind to earn sufficient money to carry out my 


54 





A HUNTER AND WILD GEESE. 





CAVE 17. 
By permission of the India Society. 





BEGGING SCENE. 
CAVE 17. 
By permission of the India Society. 


A General Description of the Caves 


scheme, and to come back to the caves again for 
a long stay in order to copy the frescoes myself. 

With these ideas in my head I bade “ Sayo- 
nara,” Good-bye, to my Japanese friends and left 
the Ajanta caves and the Fardapur village. 


Ss) 


CHAPTER THREE 
THE LIFE OF GAUTAMA BUDDHA 


For the next two years I travelled over the 
greater part of India, studying ancient art 
and monuments in the Buddhist caves and 
temples, at the same time supporting myself 
by making portrait sketches and selling my 
other drawings. I visited Bodh-Gaya, where 
Buddha received enlightenment beneath the old 
bo-tree. 


















Pi 
57 Cae 
A 

fe it] 


A 
heey esyguec 


ri 
j Walag hs =~ 
“RRC: 
7 3 SY Y *. 


“IN THE SHADE OF THE BOKUL-TREE” 


Gradually the whole history of his most 
noble and wonderful life became again vividly 
present to my mind; as when in my child- 
hood I had sat in the shade of the bokul- 
tree at the feet of my Gurudeba, Dr. Sir 
Rabindranath Tagore, in Shantiniketan School, 


56 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


and first heard the life story of the young prince 
Sidhartha Gautama, who became the Buddha. 

As the frescoes are incidents in the life of 
Buddha, I give here an account of him, his 
life and work. 

In the northern part of India, at the foot of 
the Himalaya mountains, on the borders of 
Nepal, is a land of great beauty. The mighty 
snow-clad peaks of the Himalayas towered over 
the ancient capital of Kapilabastu, which 
derived its name from an aged sage, Kapil 
Muni, who lived outside the city in the shade 
of an old banyan tree. 

Southwards below the city on the lower 
plains stretched green fields of rice, sandal 
woods and mango groves, from the midst of 
which rose the banners and towers of the tem- 
ples, whose priests filled the air from morning 
to night with the murmur of worship and chant- 
ing. 

These plains were rich and fertile, and irrigated 
by continual streams of melted snow, which 
poured down the mountain sides. The air, 
tempered by a fresh north breeze, was ever cool 
and pleasant. 

Between the mountains and the ricefields 
lay the city of Kapilabastu, of which only some 
old ruined foundations remain, belonging to the 


57 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


chief palace of the Shakya Kings. There is, 
however, little else than foundations, for ancient 
Indian buildings consisted only of blocks of 
stone and wood covered with clay and plaster, 
and were not strong enough to endure for cen- 
turles. 

In Kapilabastu, about the sixth century B.c. 
lived the King Shudhodhana, strong of purpose 
and reverenced by all men. His wife was 
Maya Debi, beautiful as the moon and pure 





THE SIX-TUSKED ELEPHANT (CAVE 10) 


as the heart of a water-lily, but alas, they had 
no child. This was a great sorrow to the King 
and Queen, who desired above all things a little 
son. 

One night, however, the Queen, grieving over 
her childlessness, fell asleep, and dreamt a dream 
of a six-tusked white elephant which entered 
her womb. She told this dream to the King, 


58 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


her husband, who called around him his wise 
men. To his intense joy they predicted that 
Queen Maya would shortly bear a son, who 
would either become a mighty monarch, or a 
great and perfectly enlightened Teacher in the 
world. However, the King wished that this long- 
desired son should be a monarch, the heir to his 
throne, the inheritor of his kingdom, and that he 
should add glory and lustre to the name of his 
father. 

Queen Maya was filled with joy. The desire 
of her life was fulfilled. She would have a 
child, and she greatly longed that he should be 
born at her old home, which was not far away 
from her palace. Nothing was too good for the 
mother of this longed-for little son. So the 
King’s consent was soon obtained, and Queen 
Maya set out for the home of her parents. 

She travelled in state as befitted a great 
Queen. Hundreds of servants, escorts of sol- 
diers, litters for her Court ladies, and in the 
midst Queen Maya herself in a gorgeous, golden 
State palanquin, sparkling with jewels and 
mounted on the back of a beautiful white 
elephant. 

It was high summer in the land. The blazing 
sunshine poured down on the royal procession, 
and even the Queen in all the luxury of her 


59 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


golden palanquin felt discomfort. In the dis- 
tance rose the cool grove of the famous Lum- 
bini Gardens, and here the Queen would rest. 

She descended from her seat to stroll through 
its shadowy glades. Many kinds of wonderful 
trees were there, with exquisite flowers, and 
rich perfume, but the most beautiful of all was 
the asoka, with its wide-spreading boughs, and 
its thick green leaves and bud-covered branches 
which bent down and touched the ground. 

Attracted to this gentle shade, Queen Maya 
and her maidens advanced, and the brilliant 
sunshine faded into gloom. Her hour had 
come. She stretched out her hand to one of 
the scarlet-blossomed branches for support, and 
from her right side above her waist came forth 
her infant son. 

The wonderful news spread, and to the cradle 
of the child hastened chiefs to pay their homage, 
scattering before him beautiful flowers and 
presents. 

Among those who came to see the royal 
babe was a Brahman, named Asita, famed for 
wisdom and scholarship, and for the interpre- 
tation of signs; but on beholding the child he 
wept, and said: “I am old and shall not live 
to see the glory of the Almighty One. For 
thy son will rule the world and will deliver all 


60 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


who are caught in the net of ignorance and 
folly.” The king was pleased, and named his 
little son Sidhartha, which means ‘‘ He who 
has fulfilled his desire.” 

The king gave orders that none but the young 
and fair should come near the child. The 
little prince was brought up with the greatest 
care and lived in the beautiful palace surrounded 
by lovely gardens and enclosed in a great park. 
He had for teachers the wisest men in his father’s 
kingdom. His least desire was granted, if not 
anticipated, and he was surrounded by play- 
mates selected from all the noblest families of 
the State. But he was never boisterous in 
disposition and did not care much for noisy 
games. He liked better to wander about the 
beautiful gardens by himself. Everyone in the 
palace noticed how calm, quiet and thought- 
ful was his disposition, in spite of all the gaiety 
of his surroundings. _ 

There were temples inside the palace, where 
the priests chanted, and the king, queen and 
their subjects came to worship. Sacrifices took 
place there, which all the boys enjoyed seeing ; 
they shouted their delight when the victim 
died; but not so the little prince. On cere- 
monial and other occasions there was feasting 
and drinking after the temple ritual was ended, 


61 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


but from this also the young prince refrained, 
preferring his own thoughts. 

One afternoon, while he sat quietly under 
a bower in the garden, a duck fell from above 
at the Prince’s feet. After taking it up, he 
found a bleeding sore with an arrow sticking 
in the bird’s breast. Shocked with grief at 
seeing so much suffering, he extracted the arrow 
and bound up the sore. His cousin, Debadatta, 
ran up to him and asked for the bird, as he had 
shot it, but Sidhartha would not give it up to 
him, saying that it belonged not to him who 
had tried to take its life, but to him who had 
saved it. 

When the Prince grew up his father built 
for him three palaces, where he dwelt at different 
seasons of the year. Hach was of the utmost 
luxury, and hundreds of beautiful dancing girls 
were appointed for his entertainment. Then 
at the age of twenty the king wished his son 
to marry. In this way he hoped to attach 
him to a worldly life. 

A great feast was arranged, to which were 
invited all the young nobles who had sisters, 
so that Gautama could see and choose for him- 
self. And amongst the fairest there was the 
Prince’s cousin, Yashodhara. 

On the last day of the revels Gautama dis- 


62 


i 


‘ 





WOMEN WORSHIPPING BUDDHA, 
CAVE I. 


By permission of the India Society. 





THE TOILET OF A QUEEN, 
CAVE I7. 


By permission of the India Society. 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


tributed jewels as mementoes amongst his de- 
parting guests. Yashodhara came last, and there 
was nothing left for her, but Gautama took 
from his neck the garland of flowers and placed 
it round her, choosing her for his bride. 

But Yashodhara’s father did not wish a daugh- 
ter of his to marry one who was not a warrior 
and Gautama hearing this proclaimed a contest. 
To the tournament came all the bravest warriors, 
all the most skilful marksmen and all the finest 
wrestlers in the kingdom. With these the 
Prince would compete and exhibit his prowess. 
His relatives feared for him. ‘‘ How,” said they, 
“will you be able to hit the quickly turning 
boar, you who have always refused to aim at 
any living thing?” Gautama only laughed, 
and on the day he outstripped everyone and 
carried off all the prizes. Thus he won the 
beautiful Princess Yashodhara, and the wedding 
was celebrated with the utmost magnificence. 

All was now prospering, and the King felt 
that his son was safely settled in a worldly life. 

His father had laid out for him a beautiful 
garden, which was situated on the other side of 
the city. This garden was so lovely that it was 
called the Garden of Happiness. Great trees 
threw shade all round, and there were masses of 
flowers, scarlet, purple and white, fountains in 


63 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


marble basins, and in the midst a wonderful 
pavilion for rest during the heat of the day. The 
king felt sure that if his son once saw this garden 
he would be content and wish for nothing fur- 
ther, so he ordained that the Prince should 
visit it. | 

A proclamation was issued, commanding that 
the streets of the city through which the royal 
procession would pass should be gorgeously 
decorated. Flags and banners were hung from 
the windows, and none but the young and fair 
were to be seen in the streets, and through this 
gay scene the Prince was to pass in his royal 
chariot to visit the marvellous garden. 

The magnificent cavalcade set forth and all 
went well until, at the corner of a street the 
Prince saw creeping slowly along the pathetic 
figure of an old and decrepit man, who humbly 
begged for alms from the joyous crowd. 

“* What kind of man is this ?”’ asked the Prince, 
seeing for the first time in his life poverty-stricken 
age. 

‘* Sire,” answered his charioteer, “‘ it is an aged 
man bowed down by years.” 

** Are all men, then, or this man only,” said the 
Prince, “ subject to age ?”’ And there was only 
one reply: “‘ All men, O Prince !”’ 

All pleasure in the wondrous garden was 


64 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


quenched by this reply. Of what avail such 
transient pleasures if the end for all was what he 
had just witnessed. Sadly the Prince turned 
homewards, reflecting deeply on the decay of 
life. 

Next day, the Prince drove forth again, and by 
the roadside lay a sick man in terrible agony. 
Never before had Gautama seen sickness of any 
sort, and he was stricken with horror to hear in 
answer to his enquiry, that all men were subject 
to be seized at any time with diseases and mala- 
dies such as had overtaken the unhappy sufferer 
before him. Once more the cavalcade returned 
without having seen the Garden of Delights. 

A third day was fixed for the visit, but again 
it was thwarted. A funeral procession descended 
the beflagged and decorated street with a lifeless 
body in its midst. Flowers and garlands were 
strewn over the corpse, and the followers, who 
were bowed with grief, cried out from time to 
time, “Call on the Lord,” as they proceeded. 
Once more the Prince sought an explanation of 
his charioteer, and learned that this was Death, 
the last and greatest enemy of man, who comes 
to high and low alike, and from whom there is 
no escape. He who begins life must also end it. 

In silent and sorrowfu! meditation the young 
Prince drove home, and the treasures of his 


F 65 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


palace were as nothing to him, for now he knew 
they were only his for a time, and that the fate 
of those unhappy men whom he had seen would 
surely and inevitably be his. 

On the fourth day another sight met the 
Prince’s eyes. Along the road came a man clad 
in mean garments and carrying a beggar’s bowl, 
but serene, dignified and self-controlled. How 
could one apparently so poor have attained to 
such peace and content? Who was he? The 
charioteer, Channa, was appealed to, and an- 
swered: “My lord, he is a religious man. He 
has abandoned all longings, controlled all passion, 
suffers no envy, and begs his daily food.” 

A light dawned on Gautama. Not in riches, 
power, luxury and wealth lay the secret of Life, 
but in renunciation, poverty, self-control and 
meditation. | 

The rumour of his son’s adventures reached the 
ears of the king. In spite of his strict orders, 
the Prince had become acquainted with Age, 
Disease and Death. Useless to issue orders for 
the punishment of those who had thus shown 
themselves; they were nowhere to be found. 
The blow he dreaded was falling, and his son tend- 
ing more and more to the life of the Teacher— 
and beggar ! | 

He summoned his Prime Minister and re- 


66 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


doubled his precautions. . Triple walls were built 
round his palace. More guards were mounted. 
The kingdom was ransacked for more and more 
beautiful dancing girls, who were commanded 
never to cease from efforts to divert the Prince’s 
mind with music and pleasure. Even his devoted 
wife, Yashodhara, was troubled and suffered 
many things in her dreams. 

But the three terrible sights which he had seen 
had sunk far too deeply into the heart of the 
Prince to be eradicated by material pleasures. 
Old Age, Disease, and lastly Death would in- 
evitably come, and the more he reflected on these 
things the more trivial and unworthy appeared 
to him the life of heedless pleasure which was 
apparently his lot. He could hardly eat or sleep, 
but wandered round his gorgeous palace day and 
night, searching for a solution of the terrible 
problem which confronted him. All who are 
born must die, and all who die must be reborn. 
There was neither beginning nor end to the 
Wheel of Life. 

It was midnight, and for Gautama there was 
no rest. All the evening had been given over 
to revelry, sweet music and playing, while beauti- 
ful maidens had danced their most alluring 
dances in the hope of rousing in their royal 
master some sign of interest. Outside a glorious 


67 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


moon flooded the gardens with light, and wearied 
with the revels, the Prince arose and went into 
the garden, seeking in the silence of the night 
an answer for his riddle. He sat down beneath 
a great jambu tree, and to him there seemed to 
come a light and the knowledge of the Way of 
Peace. 

For a time Sidhartha reflected on the wonderful 
revelation, then he arose and slowly re-entered 
his palace. He traversed the marble courts 
bathed in silver moonlight and silent now save 
for the tinkling of the fountains, and into the 
great hall, where the dancing girls were lying, 
wrapped in deepest slumber, their musical in- 
struments beside them. ‘There they lay, just as 
they had sunk down to rest, careless of their 
appearance, dishevelled in their clothing, and 
looking to his sad mind very like lifeless bodies. 
For him not only had they ceased to be attrac- 
tive, but they were even repulsive, and he 
marvelled how a man could succumb to passion 
if he were not seduced by dress, jewels and 
artificial allurements. 

Silently he left the hall. He must flee the 
palace; but how? Guards were everywhere, 
and the Prince, though nominally free, was 
virtually imprisoned by his father. He sought 
his faithful charioteer, Channa. ‘‘ Channa ! 


638 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


arise and saddle my horse quickly and quietly. 
We must go hence!’ And while Channa went 
for the horse Sidhartha stole away to take one 
more look at his wife and little son. 

In the midst of the gay assembly the Princess 
Yashodhara lay sweetly sleeping on her bed, 
strewn thick with the sweet-scented jasmine 
flowers, her newly born son in her arms. The 
Prince yearned to take the tiny child in his 
arms for a last kiss, but feared to awaken the 
mother, so with tears in his eyes he took a last 
fond look, bent down and kissed his wife’s foot. 
Then he silently drew the silken curtains and 
left the chamber. 

In the palace courtyard stood the great horse 
ready saddled, with Channa, the faithful chario- 
teer, awaiting the arrival of the Master. 
Silently he mounted, stole through the great 
gates of the palace, past the sleeping guards, 
gained the high road, and then urged on the 
horse at topmost speed. 

As the dawn broke they reached and forded 
the river Anoma. When he arrived at the 
farther bank the Prince dismounted and told his 
faithful follower that the time had now come 
for them to part. One by one he divested 
himself of his gorgeous jewels and his princely 
robes, until nothing remained but the fine white 


69 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


muslin under-garments. Then from the woods 
appeared a hunter bearing in his hands the 
russet robes of a hermit. The Prince took 
these, clad himself in them, and handing his 
fine muslins to Channa disappeared into the forest. 

Sadly Channa turned homewards, weeping and 
wailing, and leading Kantaka to the city of 
Kapilabastu with a great load of sorrow, and 
Sidhartha tarried in the forest alone. 

For seven long years he dwelt there in the 
forest searching for the way of escape from 
those three terrible woes. He searched in many 
places where he hoped to obtain peace and know- 
ledge from higher powers. No penance was 
too hard for him to perform, no fast too severe 
for him to endure. He reduced his food to the 
smallest quantity sufficient to support life, sub- 
jected himself to the most rigorous self-discipline 
and at last became so weak that he fainted and 
lay on the ground as if dead. But still the 
longed-for Enlightenment tarried. | 

Attracted by the story of his mortifications 
and the rigour of his life, five wandering hermits 
attached themselves to the Holy Man and 
became his first disciples. The fame of his 
holiness had now spread throughout the sur- 
rounding country, and pilgrims flocked to receive 
his blessing. 


70 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


Seated under an old bo-tree by the Niranjana 
river, now the Falgu, he still meditated on the 
great Secret, and made the firm resolution that 
until he had attained it he would not move from 
the place. . 

And that night it came. He received the 
Light, and it grew clear to him that mortifications 
and fasts and all the terrible austerities to which 
he had subjected his body were unavailing; he 
knew now that it was the inward thirst for life 
which was the cause of all the evil in the world. 
Could men but rid themselves of all desire, then 
they would be happy, and the three great woes 
would be conquered. This freedom was Nir- 
vana, and the life of struggle towards it he called 
the Way of Peace. So he attained the great 
Enlightenment and became Buddha. 

A flood of Peace filled his mind. Now he 
would be able to show mankind the path of 
Righteousness, and the sorrows of Life would be 
vanquished. Rising, he went down into the 
river to bathe and refresh himself with the cool 
water. After bathing he found that he had not 
strength enough to raise himself out of the water, 
so weak had he become through his long fasts. 
Espying the branch of an overhanging tree, he 
grasped it and with its aid reached the bank, 
where he sank down as if dead. Now, a beautiful 


71 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


maiden,’ who was the daughter of the head-man 
of a village near-by, woke up long, long before 
dawn, feeling uneasy. Something urged her to 
go with food to Lord Buddha. From her father’s 
great herd of cows she chose the finest black 
one, and cooked rice with its milk with great 
devotion. Then long before the sun was up, 
the morning dew still upon each blade of grass, 
she carried this food on her head to the thin, frail, 
fair figure lying on the ground under the old 
bo-tree. Being too weak to murmur a word, 
Buddha ate the sweet rice, got strength and 
blessed her. 

But Mara the Evil One viewed the Enlighten- 
ment of the Holy Man with hatred. He deter- 
mined to overthrow him, so assembling all his 
demon hosts and mounting his terrible War 
Elephant, he advanced against the Tree of 
Wisdom, where sat Buddha surrounded by the 
hosts of Heaven. So terrible was the sight of 
the Evil One that all fled, leaving Buddha alone. 

Then their leader advanced, disguised as a 
messenger and bearing a letter from the princes 
of his old home, imploring him to come to their 
assistance, for great calamities had _ befallen 
them. Debadatta had usurped the throne, cast 
his old father into prison, and held as captives 
his dear wife and only son. But Buddha, in 


72 





THE TEMPTATION OF BUDDHA. 
CAVE I. 


(See page 185.) 
From a copy in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., Bombay. 


"ZI AAV) 





The Life of Gautama Buddha 


spite of this dreadful news, was not to be turned 
from his high purpose. Then came forward 
Mara’s three beautiful daughters, and they used 
all their arts to tempt the Holy Man: they 
danced before him, offering him the lordship of 
the world, but as they approached him they 
were turned into hideous hags. Mara was now 
enraged at the failure of all his devices to tempt 
the Buddha from his Chosen Path, and rallying 
his evil troops hurled them at the Saint. A 
terrific thunderstorm accompanied by a violent 
whirlwind burst upon him, and deadly poisoned 
weapons, burning coals and scorching sand filled 
the air around him, accompanied by a fearful 
darkness; but lo, all was of no avail, for the 
fierce thunderbolts changed into lotus blooms 
which fell harmlessly and carpeted the ground, 
while perfumes filled the air, and in the glory 
that burst forth Mara and his evil hosts fled away 
discomfited. 

For seven weeks longer Buddha remained in 
his old position under the bo-tree, meditating on 
the glories of Nirvana, and then he arose, left 
the forest, and went forth into the world once 
more, to spread abroad the good tidings of the 
Way of Peace. 

He first came to Benares, for it was there that 
the five wanderers lived who had been his former 


73 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


disciples. They saw him approaching them and 
determined they would pay him no reverence but 
merely show him those courtesies which were 
owing to his human birth. But Buddha divined 
their intention and met them with such over- 
whelming love that they were ashamed, and 
rising paid him all the honour and reverence that 
was due to their Master. 

When they were seated he unfolded to them 
his first doctrines and instructed them, and they 
received and practised his precepts with such 
eagerness and assiduity that at the end of a week 
they themselves were filled with the Divine Fire, 
and set forth to carry his Message to the world. 

In the Deer Park at Benares Buddha preached 
his first great sermon, the fame of which spread 
all over India, till it presently reached the ears 
of the old King Suddhodana, who, realising that 
this wonderful preacher was the Prince his 
son, sent messengers desiring that the Holy One 
should visit him. And on receiving his message 
Buddha sent word that he was returning home. 

It was during the cold season that the Holy 
One, accompanied by a great number of dis- 
ciples, set forth for Kapilabastu. The spring 
was in the land, the grass was green, birds were 
singing, and the road on either side was bordered 

with trees laden with gorgeous scarlet blossoms. 


74, 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


When he neared the city the whole populace 
came out to greet him with flowers in their hands 
to scatter in his path; the great nobles with 
their ladies and an escort of soldiers assembled 
to give a royal reception to the son of their king; 
but walking slowly through the crowd, and 
gathering alms with his little mendicant’s bowl 
came a humble beggar, clad in tattered yellow 
garments, in whom, to their amazement, they 
recognised the Prince. Through the gates of the 
city he came, passed up the crowded streets, and 
amidst the acclamations of the multitudes en- 
tered the gate of the palace. The princess who 
was told of this entry reported it to the king, 
who at once went out to remonstrate with his 
son, saying that to appear as a beggar was to 
put the royal family to shame. “ Not one of 
all our ancestors ever begged his bread,”’ said the 
king. ‘“* But my ancestry is that of the Bud- 
dhas,” replied his son, “ and every one of them 
lived upon alms.” Upon this the old king was 
converted, and taking his son’s begging bowl in 
his hand, conducted him with every honour into 
the palace. 

Then he visited the rooms of his wife, Yashod- 
hara, who had not come with the rest of the 
family to greet him, for she wished to welcome 
him alone in his own part of the palace and 


75 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


without any onlookers. As soon as she saw him 
she fell at his feet and did homage to him. Then 
he saw that she too had tried to follow her 
beloved husband on the Path of Peace. No 
longer was she wearing the rich robes and jewels 
of a princess, but was clad in a plain russet 
garment and had worn the same sad clothing 
ever since his departure. 

But the Buddha had not yet seen his little son. 
So on the morrow his mother dressed him in his 
most gorgeous robes and splendid jewels, and 
sent him to ask his father for his imheritance, 
telling the boy that his father possessed great 
mines of wealth which should be his by right. 

The boy hesitated at first, for he had known 
no father save the old king, but his mother, 
taking him to the window, pointed out the 
Buddha who was then passing through the gate. 
The boy went straight to him and asked him 
frankly for his inheritance. The Buddha gazed 
at him for a moment and then turning to one of 
his disciples said to him, “* Give!” And Yashod- 
hara knew that her husband would receive the boy 
amongst his disciples. So Rahula, too, received 
the yellow robe. 

The time had come for Buddha to leave his 
home once more, and this time he would take 
with him his little son. 


76 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


Gautama’s teaching now began to spread, and 
thousands of converts were made, including the 
king, rich men, Brahmins, and a great number 
of householders. The Master now set out for 





BUDDHA TEACHING (CAVE 16) 


Rajagriha, and halted for a little while at the 
mango grove of Anupia. It was here that a 
ereat number of the Shakya princes followed him 
to join his disciples, among whom were his two 
cousins—-Ananda, who became his personal atten- 
dant, and Debadatta, who was not fond of him. 


77 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Another great convert was Anathapinda, a 
very wealthy merchant, who hearing of his fame 
gave a great sum of money to the Order, and 
begged the Master to visit his home. Then all 
along the road which stretched between Raja- 
eriha and Srabasthi, the merchant’s home, he 
caused to be built at every league a resting- 
place, and at the end of the journey he bought, 
for as much gold as would cover the ground, a 
beautiful grove, in which he erected a wonderful 
house for the Master and his disciples, with fine 
halls, wide terraces and beautiful water-tanks, 
with cells around it for the eighty disciples. 
When Buddha saw it, Anathapinda asked him 
what he should do with it, to which Buddha 
replied that it should be bestowed on the Order. 
Then the merchant took a golden vessel of water, 
and from it poured some into the Master’s hand, 
in this way confirming the gift. 

There were round this beautiful monastery 
cloisters, surrounded by lotus-pools, fragrant 
mango trees and slender fan palms, with 
banyan trees, whose roots dropping from the 
branches bury themselves and form new stems, 
so making whole shady groves and leafy walks 
from one tree. 

There was also another famous grove—the 
Bamboo Grove, given by King Bimbisara, in 


73 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


which place Buddha passed the first year of his 
ministry. The next three rainy seasons were 
spent in the Bamboo Grove at Rajagriha. There 
it was he taught that the offering of righteousness 
was better than that of material sacrifices, and he 
championed the beasts of the field, whom men so 
thoughtlessly and wantonly torture and slay. 
He was ever on the side of compassion and mercy. 

That the Sangha (the colony of his disciples) 
grew so rapidly was certainly not due to the 
ease of the life Gautama offered men. We 
get many glimpses of their austerity as they 
slept on the bare earth with no covering but 
the yellow robe: ‘‘ Cold, Master, is the winter 
night ; the time of frost is coming; rough is the 
ground with the treading of the hoofs of cattle ; 
thin is the couch of leaves, and light is the 
yellow robe; the winter wind blows keen,”’ said 
a dweller in Alavi as he saw the Teacher seated 
in the midst of the Sinsapa Forest absorbed in 
meditation. 7 

Amongst his converts were a great number of 
princesses, accustomed only to walk upon smooth 
marble and to be protected from the heat of the 
sun and the violence of the wind, who set out 
to walk on foot to the hermitage where Buddha 
was residing. They then joined the Order and 
carried out its rules with great devotion. After 


79 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


this Buddha showed that the time had come to 
establish a proper order of nuns. 

The ministry of Buddha was not entirely 
unopposed. Not only were the Brahmins often 
his great opponents, but some of the powerful 
kings, who from countless past births had been 
his enemies. Buddha, however, knowing of 
their enmity, always spoke well of them, and 
occasionally preached to them, and finally pre- 
vailed by means of his great patience and for- 
bearance. 

At the close of the wet season Master and 
disciples would mingle once more with the busy 
throng of men. The day was most carefully 
planned. Rising at dawn, Gautama would go 
out either alone or with his followers to village 
or town collecting alms. He would then break 
his fast, and would discourse to the monks, and 
give them exercises in meditation suited to their 
attainments. They would then leave him, going 
off each to his favourite spot to meditate, whilst 
Gautama would lie down on his right side “in 
the lion posture ’’ in a quiet chamber, or, better 
still, in the cool shade of the forest and rest— 
not sleeping, yet not practising systematic medi- 
tation. Then the people would come to him 
for preaching and advice. When he had taken 
pity on them he would bathe and spend a period 


30 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


in meditation in the cool of the evening. And 
in the first watch of the night he would answer 
the questions of the disciples or preach to 
them. 

“ While his discussions with the learned,” says 
a disciple, ‘“‘ were more or less formal and often 
coldly logical, in his conversation with ordinary 
men the Master generally resorted to similes and 
parables, fables and folk-lore, historical anecdotes 
and episodes, proverbs and popular sayings.” 
His similes and parables are drawn for the most 
part from the jungle—the spoor of elephants, 
the ways of woodmen, the life of trees—or from 
the village: herdsman, farmer, fletcher, 
charioteer, all provide him with images, whilst 
the current folk-lore of his day was converted to 
religious purposes. The great things of nature: 
too—the “ patient earth,” the wonderful moon, 
the sun in his splendour, the majestic rivers— 
these supplied him with a wealth of imagery. 

It is said of him that when asked by a farmer 
why he did not work for his living, he answered 
by the charming Parable of the Sower, in which 
Gautama claims that he, too, is a farmer, and 
that he sows seed whose crop is ambrosia; 
which of course led to the farmer’s conversion. 
As Sariputta remarked, “It is by similes that 
men come often to understanding.” 


G : 2.8L 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Though a reformed one, Buddha was brought 
up and lived and died a Hindu. The success of 
his system was due to his wonderful personality, 
his sweet reasonableness, his courageous and 
constant insistence upon a few fundamental 
principles, and the way he made his teaching 
accessible to all, high or low. 

Suffering is caused by craving of a wrong sort ; 
to get rid of this craving we must busy our- 
selves with right moral conduct. 

The teaching of the first Buddhist missionaries 
was eagerly welcomed, and though it found 
acceptance at first chiefly amongst the nobility, 
it was at heart a democratic movement into 
which Brahmins, kings, warriors, cultivators, 
and men and women of low caste and of no 
caste, were equally welcomed. 

Hither would come to him kings and their 
retinues, and other lay people, or Brahmins and 
religious teachers who had heard of his fame ; and 
on moonlight nights when the air is fragrant 
with the blossoms of flowering trees and solemn 
with the march of the stars, they would sit 
enthralled by his discourse on the eternal 
verities. 

At other times his disciples might be seen 
pacing with downcast eyes amongst the villages 
of Magadha and Kosala, giving in return for 


82 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


their daily food the teaching of the Law, which 
we are reminded again and again is “ the ereatest 
of gifts.” 

To this strange assembly of men and women 
Gautama gave fully and without reserve his 
philosophical and moral teachings, and it was 
to them he entrusted the handing on of the torch 
when he passed away. 

So Ananda was appointed, and for twenty-five 
years was Gautama’s “ faithful shadow,” com- 
bining the duties of pupil, body-servant and 
chaplain with admirable devotion. 

As Buddha was wandering alone he came to the 
“ house of the potter” at Rajagriha. The old 
man, Pukkusati, had been a king, and a friend 
of Bimbisara: perhaps the two kings and the 
physician Jivaka had been fellow-students at the 
great university. Gautama asked a night’s shel- 
ter at the potter’s house. He was told that a friar 
of noble birth was already within, but was 
allowed to share the hospitality of the house; 
and the two old men sat meditating, till Gautama, 
noting the serenity of his companion, asked him 
why he had left the world and who was his 
teacher. Pukkusati replied that it was the 
Shakyamuni whom he followed. Gautama did 
not make himself known at once, but began to 
expound the Dhamma, till Pukkusati cried out 


83 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


with joy, “I have found the Master whom I 
sought !” So sure was Gautama’s touch on 
human hearts and minds. “ More potent than 
his method and his word was the Blessed One’s 
wonderful personality. When he talked with 
men his serene look inspired them with awe and 
reverence, and his lovely voice struck them with 
rapture and amazement. To have come under 
his spell is to be his for ever. His heart always 
overflowed with kindness. To meet him was to 
be penetrated by his love and to know him was 
to love him for ever.” 

Buddha had been suffering from a _ severe 
illness and had declared that he would not live 
much longer. Whilst staying in the city of 
Pawa he was invited to a meal by a blacksmith 
named Chunda. To do honour to Buddha the 
smith killed a pig and roast pork was the prin- 
cipal dish offered to the Exalted Visitor. Buddha 
became very faint, and though he set out for 
Kushinagara, had to rest many times on the 
way. At last he reached the city and said to 
Ananda: ‘* Inform the smith, Chunda, that his 
offering will bring a great reward, for it will be 
the immediate cause of my attaining Nirvana.” 
Buddha said this, lest Chunda should feel remorse 
or others might blame him, but he gave strict 
orders that the remainder of the offering was to 


84 


The Life of Gautama Buddha 


be buried. Then he lay down on a couch in a 
grove of blossoming sal-trees near Kushinagara, 
on the bank of the river Hiranyavati (probably 
now the Gandak), sending a message to inform 
the Malwa princes of his arrival. Thus a great 
company of nobles, princes, priests and ladies of 
the court assembled around the Buddha’s death- 
bed. None of his disciples was more stricken 
with grief than Ananda, to whom Buddha left 
instructions about his burial and the continuance 
of the Rule. When Ananda wept bitterly the 
dying Buddha comforted him, saying that he had 
done well, and that if he persevered he too would 
win freedom, and he prophesied that the very 
least of those present should at last prevail and 
reach Nirvana. Shortly after this he passed 
away into the infinite peace of Nirvana—which 
ended the long cycle of his early lives; and the 
Malwa princes wrapped his body in fold upon 
fold of finest cloth, and for six days it lay in 
state. On the seventh day it was burnt on a 
magnificent pyre in the coronation hall of the 
Princes, and the body was entirely consumed, 
leaving only the relics like a heap of pearls, of 
which the chief, enshrined in glorious monuments, 
were the four teeth, the two cheek-bones and the 
skull. 


85 


CHAPTER FOUR 
MY SECOND VISIT TO AJANTA 


By the middle of the year 1919, my portrait- 
drawing had enabled me to save over two hundred 
pounds, wherewith to buy the necessary materials 
for a prolonged stay in the jungle, including camp- 
ing kit and stores. I decided to take with me as 
little as possible, and set off with a cot, medicine 
box, tinned food, water filter, petrol lamps, tins 
of petrol, rolls of drawing and tracing papers, 
ladders, large and small drawing boards, and one 
or two other requisites for life in the open. I had 
one servant with me as companion and cook. So 
the greater expedition began, and early in June 
I left Calcutta for the second time in order to 
study in the caves, well aware by this time of the 
ereat value of my prospective studies. 

On this occasion I did not leave the train at 
Jalgaon, but proceeded a little farther, to a 
station called Pachora, on the main line of the 
Great Indian Peninsular Railway, two hundred 
and thirty miles from the west coast of Bombay. 

Since my last visit I was glad to find that a 
narrow-gauge railway, running north-east through 
Khandesh in the valley of the river Tapti, from 


86 





My Second Visit to Ajanta 


Pachora Junction to Jamner, had been opened, 
and that the nearest point to the Ajanta caves 
was Pahur station, twenty-five miles from the 
junction. 
On arriving at Pachora, very late at night, I 
had to wait until morning for the train to Pahur. 
Being this time a second-class passenger, I was 


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MAP OF CENTRAL INDIA, SHOWING AJANTA AND BAGH 


allowed to occupy, at once, the second-class 
compartment of the narrow-gauge railway. The 
compartment stood in the fields some distance 
from the station. In the dark a number of 
coolies carried my luggage, and we went forth- 
with to the carriage for the night’s rest, instead 
of remaining in the waiting room at the station. 
My servant, Narayan, soon made beds for us 


87 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


both, and we tried to go to sleep till daybreak. 
In the village some little distance away we heard 
the sounds of music, with drums and flutes, songs 
and dances, and also saw through the window of 
the carriage the glowing light of torches in the 
distance, piercing the starry darkness. It was 
impossible for me to sleep, so I set off to see what 
festivity was on foot, leaving Narayan behind 
with the things in the compartment. 

I found that an Indian Jatra performance was 
taking place under a gigantic banyan tree, in an 
open field by the side of the village. In the 
middle of a great crowd a youth, dressed up as a 
girl, danced and sang with considerable grace. 
Most of the listeners sat on the ground, and a 
ereat many torches were hung from the branches 
of the tree. The young lady in the middle 
seemed to be singing of her joys and sorrows ; 
and, what appeared to be a choir of about twenty 
persons chanted the refrain to the accompaniment 
of drums, flutes and other instruments. It was 
a kind of Marathi language, which it was beyond 
my capacity to understand; and as the dance 
was but a monotonous repetition, it did not 
amuse me to stay very long. | 

Soon the dawn broke through the eastern sky, 
and the cocks began to crow. The dogs howled 
in the village; the lamps were already out and 


} 


88 


My Second Visit to Ajanta 


the people astir. As I came near the station I 
saw a small hut, and near by a large crowd had 
assembled. I found that it was a little sweet- 
shop, inside which travellers were conversing 
affectionately with the bearded proprietor, to 
whom they referred as their ‘‘mama,”’ or uncle. 
The old shopkeeper was frying jilebies (a favourite 
Indian sweetmeat) and serving them hot to his 
eager and hungry customers. I joined the crowd, 
and having secured a portion of the delicacy, 
carried it back to the train to eat with Narayan 
on the journey to Pahur. 

There were hardly any passengers on this line, 
and there was only one second-class carriage in 
the train, with three or four third-class carriages 
joined together. My drawing boards were too 
big to go in the van, but I explained fully to the 
guard the importance of conveying them, and 
they were finally carried with both doors of the 
van open, and a man in charge of the luggage 
inside. 

In the morning at eight our train left Pachora 
Junction, but soon halted again to take up a 
stout little gentleman who came hurrying along. 
He was dressed in khaki knicker-bockers and 
puttees, and wore a solar topi. He came into 
my compartment and was also bound for Pahur. 

Our train finally left the junction for Pahur, 


89 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


from which the caves are only a distance of about 
fifteen miles to the south. 

The gentleman who had so nearly missed the 
train was a railway engineer or surveyor, and he 
asked the guard to join us in the carriage. 
Amongst other luggage he had a double-barrelled 
gun, and as we travelled through the cotton fields 
we saw numbers of buck and deer feeding in 
the fields. My fellow passenger became quite 
excited, and asked the guard to stop the train 
in order that he might shoot some of them. 
The train stopped in the middle of the fields and 
the hunter got down and made towards the 
herds of deer; but after a few unsuccessful shots 
the game scattered, and he was obliged to return 
to the train which was ready to start without — 
him. He was much disappointed and showed a 
long face. 

Having passed Sindorni station, we arrived at 
Pahur soon after ten o’clock the same morning, 
and I felt that at last I had reached the threshold 
of my undertaking. 

I was disappointed to find no bullock-cart 
to carry my things to the caves, though I had 
previously sent word to Ajanta and to the station- 
master of Pahur. Pahur, being the last big 
village in the British territory, there is a post 
office, dak bungalow and police outpost. Here 


90 


My Second Visit to Ajanta 


through the help of a police official and of the 
village head-man, Patel, I was able to find two 
bullock carts and one cart-driver. This was no 
easy task at Pahur during the cotton season, as 
the people worked long hours in the fields, and 
earned more money than by driving carts. 

My servant Narayan was anything but a skuil- 
ful driver, so I took the place of the absent driver, 
and we started off in the forenoon to go to 
Fardapur, which was only about ten miles away. 

The bullocks in these parts are almost wild, 
and they are hard to drive, especially without 
their proper masters. I found this out to my 
cost, for as we descended a slope near the bank 
of the River Baghora, the cart ran off the road and 
collided with the boulders in mid-stream. A 
wheel came off, and a tin of oil burst open and 
floated with the current. I saw it was no good 
attempting to drive these wild animals any 
farther, so I left Narayan behind with the cart and 
the luggage till the real driver should come from 
the fields, and started for the caves myself with 
the remaining cart. 

On my way to Fardapur, I saw on the left, many 
people and carts gathered together in the bare 
fields, by the side of a tiny village called Vakod. 
It was a bright sunny afternoon when I reached 
this village, and I was told that a bazaar was 


91 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


being -held that particular day, this being a 
weekly event. I was glad to buy some provisions, 
such as a few vegetables, potatoes, bringals, 
onions, a little goat’s meat and some rice. ‘This 
is the last boundary village of the British Govern- 
ment in this part, and I found there was here also 
a small branch post office in a little low mud 
house. 

Fardapur, which we approached towards dusk, 
is a small village of great antiquity, and the 
remains of the Mogul fort is now used as a rest- 
house, called Caravansarai, which was probably 
built at the time of King Aurenzeb. This village 
being the first border village in the Nizam’s terri- 
tory, the Mohammedan rulers fortified it against 
invasion from the north by the construction of 
several forts. 2 

The river Baghora, issuing from the Ajanta 
caves, runs through the Fardapur village; the 
inhabitants wash and bathe in it, and drink the 
water. The bullocks, buffaloes, and in fact all 
cattle, also drink and lie in this stream, and in 
the summer there is very little water. In the 
monsoon, or rainy season, the water gets very 
dirty and muddy, and I was glad that I had not 
forgotten to bring a filter with me. The popula- 
tion in the Fardapur village is not more than 
about three hundred or four hundred, consisting 


92 


My Second Visit to Ajanta 


of Hindus and Mussulmans, some of whom are 
occupied in cultivating cotton and maize; others 
are labourers, blacksmiths, shoemakers or washer- 
men. Unfortunately an ugly little cotton mill 
has recently been erected on the roadside, near 
the Fardapur village, and this greatly spoils the 
picturesque aspect of what would otherwise be a 
wild and romantic spot. 

By the evening I arrived at the travellers’ 
bungalow, and occupied the room where I pre- 
viously stayed with my Japanese friends, but 
this time I was alone. Narayan arrived a little 
later with the cart and the rest of the luggage, 
and we began preparations for the evening meal. 

We were soon faced with many difficulties. 
Water had to be fetched from the river, which was 
a good distance away. There was wood to be 
gathered ; and provisions, such as milk and eggs, 
had to be bought and carried from the village. _ 

Next morning, when I saw the curator of the 
caves, who lived at the old Sarai at Fardapur, I 
asked him about the letters and telegrams which 
I had previously sent. He said he had not 
received them, and asked me for the permit to 
copy the frescoes, which I showed him. How- 
ever, in spite of all the difficulties, I was able 
to settle down to begin my work, and I went to 
and from the caves every day. 


93 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


At this travellers’ bungalow at Fardapur any- 
one can stay, by paying a hali-rupee per day 
(which is much lower in price than the British 
Indian rupee, value about thirteen annas), pro- 
vided that there is a room or that it is not occupied 
by any of the Government officials. One has to 
take one’s own bedding, food, cook and servants. 

The situation was easier for me this time, as I 
knew my way to the caves, and had some pre- 
liminary knowledge from my previous visit of the 
treasures which they contained. 


94 


CHAPTER FIVE 
I BEGIN MY WORK IN THE CAVES 


In the course of the third century B.c. a few of 
the great Buddhist monks had a strong desire to 
form a Sangha—a colony for the worship of the 
Lord Buddha. 

They searched eagerly for a retreat from the 
noisy world, and ultimately discovered a_ ro- 
mantic, secluded spot in the gorge near Ajanta, 
where a few natural holes in the hillside suggested 
the possibility of carving out the rocky scarp to 
form temples, monastic halls, chapels and dor- 
mitories, where they could study the Buddhist 
culture in peace. 

Soon the fame of this group of saintly men 
spread over the country and attracted good and 
learned people, the rich among whom helped to 
establish a proper university in this ravine, where 
Religion, Philosophy, Art, Ethics, and all higher 
things could be studied. 

The nucleus of this ideal university was a 
chapel, which was exclusively devoted to cere- 
monial worship, and is now known as cave 10. It 
was cut out of a large piece of living rock in the 
sheer side of the cliff with infinite labour. 


99 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Before beginning my work at the caves I made a 
preliminary inspection of these ancient temples, 
so as to form an idea of how to proceed with my 
studies. 

I decided to begin by copying the wall-paint- 
ings, starting with the most primitive and work- 
ing gradually up to the highly-developed ones, 
in which way I should be better able to follow 
the different stages of this great school of Indian 
art. 

The oldest group of caves at Ajanta lies in the 
middle of the crescent-shaped hill; and cave 
10, with its great semi-circular arch and gate- 
window and the rest of this central group of six 
caves, were the first to be excavated, as the rock 
is at that pomt much smoother and more per- 
pendicular than anywhere else, and the smooth 
surface extends almost to the bottom of the 
ravine. 

Cave 10 is a large chaitya, or chapel of wor- 
ship, and is the deepest and loftiest of all the 
caves at Ajanta. It looks from outside like a 
single great, open gate, and possesses no porch 
or specially made top window for light as in 
its companion on the right, chaitya cave 9. 
It measures ninety-five feet long by forty-one 
feet wide and thirty-six feet high, and was once 
fitted with gorgeous ornamental wooden ribs. 


96 


I Begin my Work in the Caves 


There are twenty-nine pillars surrounding the 
nave, all with plain octagons without bases or 
capitals, but once the whole of the cave was 
covered with very thin white plaster, and was 
painted at a very early period, probably from 
350 to 200 B.c. | 

The triforium belt above the pillars has also 
been painted with figures, but scarcely any traces 
now remain. 

In these early days the Buddhists’ shrine did 
not contain any image, but was a plain, semi- 
circular shaped dome, commonly called a dagoba, 
but technically known as a stupa, which was 
made of a huge mound of earth ornamented out- 
side with bricks, terra-cotta and stone. A dome- 
shaped stupa is found in every chaitya cave at 
Ajanta. In this early cave it is perfectly plain 
and simple, with a lower base over fifteen feet in 
diameter. The square relic casket on the stupa: 
in this cave was cut out of the rock and still 
retains its original form, but the wooden lotus- 
leaf canopy, which was on its top, and the wooden 
ribs which once adorned the roof, have now all 
perished. Innumerable nests of wild bees now 
hang down from the top of the cave front. Wild 
parrots, pigeons and bats fly in and out at free 
will. Within, despite the spaciousness, the air 
is terribly foul, but the light is fairly good. 


H 97 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


There is an inscription on the front right 
hand top corner of this great chaitya cave 10. 
The characters are in very early Sanscrit type, 
rather large and crude. It reads, “ Basathiputasa 
Kathadito ghara mukha danam,”’ which means : 
“The gift of a house door front by Basathiputa.”’ 

Probably this cave was excavated by one of the 
ancient powerful Andhra kings, or a very rich 
merchant Basathiputa of this early period of the 
third century, B.c. 

About thirty years ago there were some very 
fine fragments of paintings on the wall of this 
temple, but now they have all vanished. Var- 
nish was applied to them by European officers who 
copied them from time to time. The object of 
the application of varnish was to bring out the 
colours, but the final effect has been that the 
fragments have gone completely black; what- 
ever remained has been scribbled over by the 
visitors to the caves. 

In this temple one can still just recognise, 
though they have been almost completely des- 
troyed, the Jataka tales illustrating the story of 
the six-tusked elephant, stories of the previous 
incarnations of Buddha, and also many other 
Buddhist legends painted on the wall. As the 
story goes, the Bodhisatva (the previous birth 
name of Buddha) came to life as the chief elephant 


98 


I Begin my Work in the Caves 


of a great herd of eight thousand, in the Hima- 
layas. They dwelt near Lake Shadhubata in a, 
golden cave, amid pools of white lilies, blue, white 
and red lotuses, and thickets of red paddy, fields of 
melons and of many other plants. Pure white 
was the chief elephant, with red feet and face and 
a trunk like a silver rope, and his name was 
Chadanta. He had two queens, Kulasuvada and 
Mahasuvada. Once whilst walking with his 
queens he struck a sal tree with his forehead and 
a shower of twigs and red ants fell upon Kulasu- 
vada, but on her rival fell only flowers and pollen. 
_ Later Mahasuvada imagined that Kulasuvada 
_was his favourite wife, and cherished a erievance 
against him. She prayed to the gods that she 
might be reborn as a beautiful maiden and become 
the Queen of Benares, for she said to herself : 
“IT shall be lovely in his eyes and then I shall do 
what I please. I will speak to the king and he 
shall send a hunter with a poisoned arrow to 
wound and slay the elephant and bring me a pair 
of his tusks which give forth six-coloured rays.” 
Thenceforth she took no food, and pining away, 
she died. The gods granted her prayer, and in 
due time she was reborn, became the Queen of 
Benares, and asked of her lord a boon, which she 
would not reveal until all the king’s huntsmen 
were assembled. Then she proclaimed her wicked 


99 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


intention to capture the tusks of Chadanta. The 
chief hunter, Sonuta, whom she sent, took all 
needful implements with him, attired himself in 
the yellow robes of a holy man, and after travel- 
ling for seven years, shot the royal elephant with 
the poisoned arrow, but he was unable to cut off 
the tusks, although the elephant lay down and 
let him climb up his trunk. So the elephant 
himself with his trunk pulled them out and gave 
them to the hunter, who departed. But before 
the other elephants could reach him Chadanta 
had died. 

So Sonuta returned, and when the tusks were 
brought to the queen, she cried: “‘ Do you tell 
me he is dead ?” 

‘* Rest assured he is dead,” was the answer. 

She laid the tusks in her lap, and thinking that 
these were the tusks of one who in her former 
existence had been her dear lord, she was filled 
with so great a sorrow that she could not bear it ; 
and then and there her heart broke, and she died 
the same day. 

In a portion of the painting on the none wall 
is seen the hunter discharging his arrow, the huge 
six-tusked elephant lying down, and one hunter 
engaged in cutting off the six tusks, while another 
arranges them in a bamboo sling to carry them 
away. 


100 


I Begin my Work in the Caves 


In the upper drawing is shown a herd of ele- 
phants disporting themselves in the jungle amidst 
lotus-flowers, asoka and banyan trees, among 
them being the six-tusked elephant represented 
much larger than any of the others and white in 
colour. The body of this elephant is dotted all 
over with small brown spots, which give a realistic 
imitation of the texture of the hide. 

In the lower drawing the hunter is seen on the 
left; he has reached the crest of the golden ridge 





FROM A WALL PAINTING IN CAVE 10 


and comes upon the huge elephant. Next, to the 
right, are a king and queen, seated on bamboo 
stools, most common even to-day in India, sur- 
rounded by their female attendants and two 
hunters, one carrying the six tusks hanging in a 
bamboo sling balanced across his shoulder. The 
queen at the sight of the tusks turns away and 
appears stricken with remorse, while the king 
and her maidens endeavour to console her. 
Farther to the right, the king and queen are 
seated on chairs which seem quite modern, and 
the two hunters with their hands in a suppliant 


101 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


attitude approach them. The king is addressing 
them, while the queen appears to wish to draw 
the king’s attention to the pilgrim resting on his 
long stick on her right. 

In the next scene the queen, seated once more 
on a circular stool, appears to be still grieving. 
The king stands in front, consoling her, while her 
maidens, two standing and one sitting, are lis- 
tening to their conversation. Behind the queen 
is a couch or bed in a palace. 

The next scene represents the king anil queen 
with their maidens walking in the garden. One 
maiden is picking a fruit from a tree. 

The painting to the right of this is entirely 
destroyed, but it is believed to have represented 
the death of the queen with a broken heart. 

This story of the six-tusked elephant has been 
illustrated on the walls more than once at Ajanta, 
and in this case these early artists depicted it in 
narrative fashion, with a certain number of, con- 
necting links between the various episodes. The 
paintings here belong to the most primitive 
school of Buddhist art, and therefore I thought 
it the best place at which to start copying. 

The ground upon which these early paintings 
were executed was a very thin white plaster, 
about the thickness of an egg-shell, on the smooth 
surface of the rock; it is smoother here than in 


102 


I Begin my Work in the Caves 


any other of the caves of this series at Ajanta. 
Some of them face the open air and are exposed 
to the action of both sun and rain, and their 
sombre remains are also covered with innumerable 
names, dates, stains of varnish and other obstacles 
to preservation. The paintings on the east side 
of the octagonal pillars in this first cave, however, 
though much damaged by weather and scribbles 
are clearly visible. They represent Buddha 
standing upright in the act of preaching or of 
benediction. Some are just over a foot in size, 
while others are almost as large as life. 

These paintings seem of a much later date than 
the paintings on the walls, and probably date 
as late as the fifth or sixth century a.p. The 
dark sweeping line of the drapery and of the 
hands, eyes and limbs is very interesting and of a 
vigorous and advanced technique, but the folds 
are drawn conventionally. 

Some of these paintings have clearly been 
painted over the thin surface of fine early paint- 
ings. The paintings between the ribs of the 
aisles were also executed at a much later date, 
probably the third or fourth century 4.p., about 
the same time as that of the paintings on the 
pillars. 

But it is curious that about twenty fragments 
of more modern inscriptions, painted with dark 


103 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


brown or red colour, have been found in this 
cave, some painted over the older work on the 
walls, but most of them on the pillars. These 
inscriptions refer to the figures of Buddha. 
Now only a few fragments of lettering remain. 
Probably these figures were painted by the dis- 
ciples of Buddha or the vikshus. 





FIGURES FROM THE OLDEST PAINTING IN CAVE 10 


I selected a portion of the frescoes on the left 


wall, which was visible in the daylight, for care- 
ful inspection, but first took my damp handker- 
chief and rubbed some of the dust from the sur- 
face. A miracle happened! Suddenly I saw a 
fragment of excellent drawing of a long almond 
shaped eye, a nose and eyebrows and so on, for a 


104 


I Begin my Work in the Caves 


few seconds, but as soon as the moisture evapo- 
rated, the whole picture vanished. 

I chose this piece from the wall to copy, and 
after having had a good look, I hung a sheet of 
tracing paper from the top of it, with adhesive 
beeswax serving as drawing-pins, so that the 
fresco was not touched. Standing on the step- 
ladder, I rolled up the tracing paper from the 
bottom with the left hand, looked at the drawing 
carefully, and tried to understand all the out- 
lines bit by bit ; then slowly I unrolled the tracing 
paper down on the original painting and began to 
trace. 

By tracing a portion at a time I discovered a 
most charming picture of a king, queen and 
princess, and women attendants, who formed 
part of a procession, two carrying relic caskets 
and some other object, and one with an umbrella 
borne over the casket and the king. The royal 
party are watching the sacred bodhi-tree hung 
with offerings, while on the other side are wor- 
shippers. Here also is depicted the hunting of a 
huge serpent by the side of a forest. Kveryone, 
from the king to the little boy, is arrayed in 
jewelled robes, necklaces and arm-bands. The 
outline everywhere here is very sensitive, but 
strikingly strong and true; and there is a shy 
realism throughout, notably in the delicate finger- 


105 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


tips, the speaking eyes and the head and pearl 
ornaments. All this suggests that the long- 
forgotten artists of these early dates possessed a 
freshness of vision and a freedom from conyen- 
tionality, and indicates that they were perhaps 
the moderns of their day. 

After the exact tracing was made from the 
wall, the drawing was first transferred to the 
painting paper stretched on the drawing board. 
Afterwards the outlines were accurately copied 
from the fresco, and then the colour was applied 
all over the paper like the original painting, 
and thus the copy was made. I am happy to 
say that this copy of mine found a home in the 
British Museum. 


106 


‘unasnpy ysyiug ay, fo quampvdag jwjuais() ay) uy 
‘OI HAV) 


‘SLNVGONULLV NHNOM HILIM “SSHONINd GNV ‘NAANO “ONIN V 








INTERIOR VIEW OF CAVE 9, WITH SACRED 





CHAPTER SIX 
HOW THE CAVES WERE FIRST STARTED 


Wuen the followers of Buddha had actually 
founded their university by cutting out of the rock 
a large chaitya, Number 10, other monks began 
to hear about the institution and came to Ajanta 
from various parts of India. Their patrons gave 
big donations, and the second cave was excavated 
—the second chapel for worship by the side of 
the mighty temple Number 10. 

This new chaitya is now known as cave 9. 
In that early period of the Buddhist cult, between 
200 and 300 B.c., people were more devoted to 
practical religion than to comfortable living in a 
bihara. The two graceful chaityas were made 
and became famous. The little group of Budd- 
hists, or the Sangha as _ it is called, grew larger 
every day, and the silent air of the lonely wooded 
gorge was filled with prayers and chants. 

Though this new temple is only about half the 
size of the neighbouring chaitya, 10, it is none the 
less most important. It is the lowest in position 
on the side of the cliff and the smallest in the 
series. 

_ Over the front doorway there was cut a spa- 


107 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


cious opening, forming a window about twelve 
feet high, and admitting light into the interior of 
the cave. This window, in shape something like 
a lotus leaf, forms the upper part of the porch 
upon which it rests, and which separates it from 
the main entrance. It forms a great contrast to 
its other and earlier companion, Number 10, which 
is quite unique, in that the whole of the front is 
open. 

The fagade of this chaitya is covered with 
carvings of various Buddhas, stupas and horse- 
shoe ornaments like that of the window, all of 
which are still in good condition. Though finely 
worked, the carvings are quite unobtrusive and 
in entire harmony with their surroundings. Re- 
cently the rubbish heaps and debris of broken 
stones which had accumulated in front of it have 
been cleared away, and a little stone wall has 
been made. 

On the left-hand side, in a recess by the window, 
there is a most charming group of carvings, 
depicting Buddha, seated, and preaching to the 
assembled princes and monks, who are standing. 
This is balanced on the right-hand side by other 
figures of Buddha, both standing and sitting. 
All these sculptures were probably added at a 
later date, perhaps in the fourth or fifth centuries 
A.D. 


108 


How the Caves were First Started 


i 


From the outside it would seem that there had 
once been a great deal of woodwork in the front, 
which has all perished, but in the carved orna- 
ments over the porch and everywhere else there 
would appear to have been much copying of the 
wooden structures. In olden days in India, 
palaces and great houses were as a rule made 
mainly of wood with huge beams and rafters ; 
these being unsuited to the extremes of climate, 
heat, cold and torrential rains, have perished, but 
still in many parts of the land the Hindus love to 
live in gorgeously decorated wooden houses, so 
that these structures were meticulously copied 
in stone, which style is even now used by Northern 
Indians for palaces and temples. It is this sort 
of traditional form which we see exemplified in 
the chaitya caves 9 and 10, and in others too. 

Though the light enters freely through the 
spacious window in this chapel, the interior is 
nevertheless dim. 

This cave measures inside forty-five feet long 
by twenty-three feet wide, and is twenty-three 
feet high. Two rows of massive, plain octagonal 
columns without base or capital, joining in a 
semicircle at the end, divide the side aisles, and 
a huge stupa, seven feet in diameter, the chief 
object of worship in this sanctuary, is set in the 
rounded apse. The dome-shaped stupa stands 


109 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


on a plain cylindrical base about five feet high, 
resembling a magician’s crystal. The dome itself 
is also about five feet high, and supports a carving 
resembling a reliquary, this having at one time 
been surmounted by a wooden canopy, now long 
since perished. 

The side aisles are flat-roofed, and were once 
covered with decorative paintings of varied 
designs, of which now hardly a trace remains. 
In this cave, too, as in Number 10, the pillars are 
enriched with paintings of standing Buddhas, 
some of which are exceedingly beautiful. They 
are nearly as old as those in 10. Buddha, ‘his’ 
head surrounded by a halo, is shown with dis- 
ciples, worshippers, kings and queens, and snake 
kings with cobra hoods, together with traces of 
early types of buildings, stupas, and triple cano- 
pies—all most interesting, as depicting the earliest 
type of Indian life existing in Art. Unfortu- 
nately, the meaning of many of these paintings 
has not yet been discovered. The whole of the 
cave was once covered with a kind of white lime 
plaster, upon which the paintings were executed. 

These pictures show us the peculiar way in 
which turbans were worn in those early days. 
They were interwoven with the wearer’s long 
black hair and decorated with massive ornaments, 
and were worn in this way by both men and. 


110 


How the Caves were First Started 


women. Perfect illustrations of the costumes and 
manners of those days are found in large numbers 
both in this cave and in Number 10. 

The friezes along the tops of the pillars are most 
interesting. They show great vitality and move- 
ment, the cowherd running after his bulls, the 
tiger pursuing the cowherd, all perfect in design 
and highly finished in colouring; the children 





HEAD DRAWING (CAVE 10) 


also are drawn very vivaciously. It is a great 
pity that no more of these marvellous paintings 
are now left. 

In a great many places the upper layer of paint 
has fallen off, revealing underneath fragments of 
much earlier pictures, so it would seem that they 
have been painted one on the top of another. 
The reason for this we do not know, which is 
rather disappointing ; but with careful examina- 


Lil 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


tion we can still find the narratives of the Jataka 
tales in painting on the walls. | 

Numerous fragments of painted inscriptions— 
as many as sixteen—have been found in this cave. 
These, however, were not in a good state of pre- 
servation, so very little of them can be read, but 
they are of much later date than the paintings 
and might be the fifth or sixth century A.D. 


CHAPTER SEVEN 
THE CAVES—CONTINUED 


On either side of the chaityas 9 and 10, on the 
hillside, were numerous caverns and_ recesses 
which had been occupied by holy men long before 
the days of Buddha. Gradually the earlier her- 
mits died out and were succeeded in their rude 
cave-dwellings by the Buddhist monks. 

By degrees the natural caves began to provide 
insufficient shelter for the increasing number of 
monks, and they started to enlarge the available 
space by cutting away the rock and made low 
stone benches and tiny cells all round for the 
high priests, each cell having two stone beds and 
a low doorway. 

Very soon reports of the monks’ hardships 
spread in the cities. The noble and rich people 
of that date made generous donations and the 
best professional masons and artists were em- 
ployed to hew out temples and decorate the 
interiors with paintings. Out to the gorge came 
hundreds of craftsmen, labourers and _ artists, 
with paints, hammers and chisels, borne by pro- 
cessions of elephants, and a hubbub arose in the 
depths of the ravine at Ajanta. The simple 


I 1138 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


monks themselves worked hard, side by side 
with the strangers who had been sent to help 
them. 

Soon the monks’ rough dwellings were trans- 
formed into monasteries that were gorgeous in 
comparison, and were embellished by marvellous 
paintings on their walls and ceilings. 

These caves of the first group were not all 
completed at one time, as the monks, who loved 
peace, could not abide the noisy working men 
and the clamour of the building operations while 
they were living in the monasteries. It was only 
during the two seasons, the hot and the rainy, 
that the monks did not go out to the villages to 
preach and to beg their food. In the other more 
favourable seasons—about eight or nine months 
in the year—they and their disciples were scat- 
tered over various parts of the country, and only 
met together again for about three months. 
During the hot and wet seasons they were accus- 
tomed to take shelter at headquarters in these 
monasteries, to discuss schemes for various works 
of piety and charity in the next year. 

During their absence as a body for eight or 
nine months, only a few old and venerable head 
priests kept charge of the place ; and the excava- 
tions of the monasteries and temples had a proper 
chance to progress. 


114 


The Caves—Continued 


When two chaityas had been more or less com- 
pleted, the monks turned their attention to some 
more of the surrounding caves for their own 
especial residences. The natural recesses to the 
right of chaitya 9 and the left of chaitya 10 were 
dealt with, and workmen were soon busy turning 
them into habitable places. The caves to the 
left of chaitya 10 were 11, 12 and 18; and on the 
right of chaitya 9 were 8 and 7. 

So altogether five biharas, or monastery halls, 
were properly excavated, three on the left and 
two on the right of chaityas 9 and 10, forming the 
first group of seven caves at Ajanta. These were 
building during the two centuries which preceded 
the birth of Christ. 

Number 12 1s one of the oldest of the monas- 
teries. It may be considered to cover a period 
from about three and a half centuries before the 
birth of Christ to 200 B.c., and it is probably about 
the same age as 9 and 10. | 

The front of this cave has fallen away with the 
baranda, and there now only remains a square 
hall thirty-eight feet each way, without any 
pillars or internal supports to the flat roof. 

There are four cells on each of the three inner 
sides and, inside, eleven double beds and raised 
pillows to sleep on were cut in stone. There 
are marks of holes for pivot hinges in the sills — 


115 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and lintels of the doorway, and others in the 
jambs for fastenings, which shew that this cave 
was a large sleeping chamber or dormitory, and 
that the monks took sufficient precautions to keep 
out the tigers during the night, by closing the 
entrance and windows with wooden doors and 
shutters. 

The upper portion of the walls above the cell 
doors is beautifully ornamented with the oldest 
type of canopy, somewhat like a horseshoe in 
shape, representing the chaitya window. This 
bihara no doubt was the first of all the early 
series to be properly finished. 

The monastery is in a very ruined state and 
there is no trace of painting on the walls or 
ceiling; also, probably because it was a bihara of 
a very early type, no sculptures, paintings or 
images for worship were introduced in it. How- 
ever, there is a short inscription in three lines to 
the left of one of the cell doors in the back wall, 
which reads: “* The meritorious gift of a dwelling 
with cells and hall by the merchant Ghanama- 
dada.”’ 

On the immediate left of bihara 12 is another 
ancient little bihara now known as 18, which 
also is entirely lacking in paintings. This was 
originally another natural hole in the hillside, 
and even now it looks very much like one from 


116 


The Caves—Continued 


the outside. Like bihara 12, its front has com- 
pletely fallen away. It was only a vikshu’s 
room, or small residence of a holy man who lived 
here and whose sanctity may have attracted 
others to the spot. Later on this space was 
properly excavated into a plain hall, with polished 
walls but without pillars, of about fourteen feet 
wide by seventeen feet deep and only seven feet 
high. It has seven cells with stone beds, as in 
cave 12. How cool and pleasant it must have 
been to rest here on those stone beds in the dark 
during the bright, hot summer afternoons. 

Then comes a very small bihara cave, 8, which 
must have been a natural cavern from very 
ancient times. It was built almost immediately 
on the completion of chaitya 9. 

This monastery is the first one approaches when 
one mounts the ancient stairs from the stream 
at the bottom, and is situated at the lowest level 
in the hill. The whole of the front has fallen 
away and what remains is nothing but plain, 
bare rock. The hall is thirty-two feet long, 
seventeen feet wide, and only ten feet in height. 
There are two cells at each end and two on each 
side of the ante-chamber of the shrine. There is a 
Iow door leading to the dark ante-chamber in 
which is no image of any kind—nothing but a 
low stone bench at the back. 


117 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


The largest natural cavern in this series, on 
the right of cave 8, was also turned into a good 
bihara, and is now known as 7. On approach- 
ing this monastery one can see that there are 
two porches, each supported by octagonal pillars 
surmounted with lotus-flower capitals, and in 
spite of its porches being much damaged, it still 
looks beautiful. It was probably then left more 
or less incomplete, as in its natural state it was 
quite large and comfortable, but was finished at 
a much later date, probably in the third or fourth 
century A.D. 

The frieze along the front above the cAleanea 
is carved with miniature chaitya ornamental 
windows. This cave measures sixty-three feet 
long by fourteen feet wide, and is only about 
ten feet high, and has no hall. From its shape 
it really forms nothing but a very long baranda. 
On each side of the baranda is a room on a little 
higher level than the floor, with two pillars in 
the doorway, and these rooms contain more 
cells. In the back wall of the baranda are four 
other cells, apparently excavated as living-rooms 
for the honourable guests at the university. 
Right at the back, in the centre of the wall 
between these cells, is an ante-chamber leading 
to the shrine, where sits a colossal statue of 
Buddha Deba, cross-legged, on a lion throne, 


118 





BARANDA OF CAVE 7. 


oe 


Si eds 
‘eee 


: 





BARANDA OF CAVE 11. 


The Caves—Continued 


his right hand raised in the act of blessing. On 
each side of the door of the sanctuary are eight 
good sculptures of four Buddhas standing and 
four worshippers. On. the right and left sides 
of the shrine are very many good sculptures of 
Buddhas in rows, about seven in a row, sitting 
and standing on the lotus, and the leaves between 
them. The stem of the lowest and central lotus 
is upheld by two kneeling figures wearing royal 
headdresses : probably they were the donors of 
the caves. 

Once also the whole of this temple was covered 
with beautiful paintings, for during the whole 
of the day it is well lighted. A good many very 
faint fragments of paintings still remain on the 
back wall, but no artist has yet ventured to copy 
them. 

Much higher up the cliff on the left of chaitya 10 
was another natural cavern of rather a different 
type, which was developed into a beautiful resi- 
dence for the high priests of chaitya 10. This 
was especially convenient for them, as they would 
be close to their religious duties. 

This bihara No. 11 is much smaller in size 
than chaitya No. 10, and might be either exactly 
contemporary with or a few years later than its 
companion. 

Its general appearance from outside is quite 


119 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


plain and simple, and in keeping with its neigh- 
bours of this very early period. Its antiquity 
is shewn by the rubbed edges of the flight of small 
steps leading up to it. A peculiar feature of the 
front of it is the baranda, which shuts it in and 
makes it cosy. The baranda is supported in 
front by four octagonal columns with bracket 
capitals and square bases, raised on a panelled 
parapet, the roof of the baranda projecting over 
the pillars. At one time the whole of this cave, 
both roof and walls, was elaborately painted ; 
unfortunately, with the exception of a few 
places in the baranda, these paintings are almost 
entirely gone. Whatever survived the hand of 
Nature was obliterated by some modern pretended 
holy men, who took up their abode in these 
caves and daubed the walls over with clay and 
cowdung. 

The doorway leading from the baranda to the 
interior hall is plainer and less decorative than 
those of the other biharas of a later date than this 
series; the steps leading to the hall, however, 
are adorned with two lions’ heads of good design. 
On either side of this door is a large, square win- 
dow, divided by two pillars into three openings ; 
and so this cave, though small, can receive some 
light, especially towards afternoon. On the left 
of the door there has once been a lovely painting 


120 


The Caves—Continued 


of a tall, standing Buddha on a bluish-black 
ground, his robe held gracefully in his left hand. 
Much of the remaining painting seems to consist of 
pictures of Buddhas and of the Prince Gautama. 
By the side of the door is a painting of Prince 
Gautama holding some lilies in his left hand, 
and above this are other good figure designs. 
On the right side also has been a similar figure, 
but not in such a good state of preservation. 

Above the left window there remain, too, a 
ereat many paintings of Buddha. Over the 
right one are plump figures of boys and another 
group of six Buddhas. 

The inside of the baranda roof, both the inner 
portion and that projecting outside the pillars, 
still bears a good deal of painting—the remains 
‘of flowers, birds and other decorative designs. 

At either end of the baranda is a cell containing 
some good bas-relief sculptures depicting seated 
images of Buddha. One of these latter is placed 
on a low platform raised above the floor of the 
cell by two steps. These carvings of Buddhas 
were probably executed at a slightly later date. 

The inside hall is about thirty-seven feet long 
by twenty-eight feet wide, with a flat ceiling 
ten feet high, supported in the centre on four 
octagonal columns. These columns are of a very 
early style, and it is probable that this cave was 


121] 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


one of the first examples of the introduction of 
pillars in the biharas or monastery halls. 

No sooner, however, have you entered the 
cave than you are driven out. The air inside is 
thick with the foulest of stenches arising from 
eenturies of unmolested occupation by bats and 
owls. That foul odour is the worst enemy of the 
artist, who cannot possibly concentrate his mind 
quietly while copying the inside frescoes, even 
though the whole of the wide front of bihara 
cave 11 is open. Every quarter of an hour 
I had to drop my work and come into the fresh 
air to breathe. This is tragic enough, but in 
some of the other caves the smell is so horrible 
that one never wants to venture in. 

Opening into the hall of this cave are eight 
cells, three on the left, three on the right, and two 
in the back wall, one on either side of the middle 
sanctuary. The sanctuary which opens directly 
from the cave is a room about fifteen feet square. 
The statue of Buddha is not placed against the 
wall, but stands at a little distance from it, so that 
the priests could take the new-comers right round 
it, or the monks, if they wished, at any hour could 
encircle it in prayer. Buddha here sits on a 
throne with two charmingly-carved deer on either 
side of the round halo of the wheel, and two 
lions behind them. There are no attendants, 


122 


The Caves—Continued 


but above are flying figures. In front of this 
image of Buddha is a beautiful natural stone 
carving of a man kneeling in adoration with an 
offering in his hands: this probably was the 
portrait of the donor of this cave. 

It is most wonderful that towards the evening 
the last rays of the sun fall upon the face of 
Buddha, so that it is lit with divine ecstasy. 

High up on the wall and scarcely visible, on 
the left side of the sanctuary, is an aperture 
opening into a secret cell,—a pitch-dark recess, 
fearful and mysterious, and unique in the whole 
series of caves at Ajanta. 


123 


CHAPTER EIGHT 
MY SERVANT’S DEATH 


Lonc before the sun rose I used to get up and 
call the servant, and while he ran to the village 
to buy eggs and milk for breakfast I would fetch 
water from the stream and collect wood for a 
fire. Water had been scarce, but now the mon- 
soon was coming over the land, and the tiny 
little river Baghora was getting swifter every day, 
losing its crystal transparency in a dark muddy 
torrent. While my servant cooked the breakfast 
I completed my dressing by winding the puttees 
round my legs. Well before eight o’clock, having 
warned Narayan to boil and filter the drinking 
water, I used to start on the five-mile walk to 
the caves. 

My morning and evening diversion was to 
try to discover a shorter track through the undu- 
lating and very rough ground to and from the 
caves, and it was not long before I found a few 
light trails made by the soft hooves of wild 
cattle and boars, which led there much quicker 
than the old twisting and winding paths. 

In the dark, evil-smelling caves, by the light 
of a petrol lamp, I stood the whole day copying the 


124 


My Servant’s Death 


frescoes. At noon a boy or man would come 
with a lunch basket on his head, looking flustered, 
and lolling his tongue out of his mouth to show 
how tired the long walk from the village had 
made him. Almost every day on opening the 
basket I found that more than half my food had 
gone; sometimes only a few little bones were 
lying in the gravy. It was no good saying any- 
thing to the man, as the answer always was: 
It has fallen off.’? Padlock or no padlock, the 
food-bearer always had his share. In despair 
I asked Narayan to bring my lunch to the caves, 
but the result was that the poor man had no time 
to prepare an evening meal for me in the bungalow. 

The chowkidhars, or caretakers of the caves, 
who came every day from the village of Ajanta, 
used to leave the caves very early, long before 
sunset. This puzzled me, until they advised me 
to leave with them, saying that on several occa- 
sions tigers had crossed their path, even at 
twilight. I did not take much notice of this, 
but worked until it was dark. 

By this time I had made one or two copies of 
the frescoes and some tracings from the walls, 
and was now copying a large piece of painting 
which represented the birth of Buddha on the 
left wall of cave 2. 

One evening, just as the sun was setting, I 


125 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


was alone in the caves, the chowkidhars having 
already departed, I at last put out my petrol 
lamp by which I had been working the whole day, 
and prepared to leave for the bungalow. Sud- 
denly I was surprised to see the cave orow gradu- 
ally brighter and brighter, until very soon it 
became much brighter than by the artificial 
lamp-light ; so that I was able to compare com- 
fortably my copy with the original painting on 
the wall, and criticise the colours which look 
different by artificial light. Greatly astonished, 
I walked round the cave, seeing clearly each fresco 
on the walls, until the cave sunk into darkness. 

The next day I waited to see whether this phe- 
nomenon would be repeated, and about the same 
time as the evening before the whole cave lit up 
for a very brief while and then darkened. The 
reason for this is that towards evening the last 
rays of the descending sun are reflected on the 
ground in front of the caves and also on the hills 
opposite. The idea occurred to me to dispose 
sheets of paper where they might reflect sunlight 
into the dark cave and on to the frescoed walls. 
Thus I saved my petrol lamp. 

The monsoon broke, and the river issuing 
from the caves grew sometimes into an impas- 
sable, roaring torrent, and one morning was so 
swollen that it was impossible to reach the caves, 


126 


My Servant’s Death 


and I had to return to the bungalow and remain 
there for three days. Narayan and I planned 
after a long discussion to move to the caves and 
live there, renewing our store of food once a 
week from the bazaar at Vakod. As soon as 
the rain stopped a little and the torrent grew 
quiet, we packed up and left the bungalow and 
came to settle in cave 7, which had once been 
the home of Buddhist monks. Here I felt happy ; 
I had more time to do my work. 

Now in the heavy monsoon the waterfall by 
the extreme western caves became big and 
thundering, and all day and night I could hear 
it pouring and pouring. Mists and clouds passed 
over the hills and clung to their tops, and shivered 
through the thick green trees; but sometimes, 
like magic a lovely deep blue sky would appear 
between the two hill slopes, and the golden rays 
of the morning sun shone on the leaves in the 
forest and reflected like little mirrors. The pea- 
cocks screamed and strutted and the whole 
forest and scene became wonderful. Monkeys, 
porcupines and mongooses passed by the stream 
and even snakes swam in the water. Frogs of all 
kinds were always leaping about. The silence 
of the dark night was broken by their loud croak- 
ing and the noisy murmur of trees swaying with 
the wind. 


127 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


I was wrapped in a sort of artistic ecstasy, 
interested in the wonderful old pictures, living 
in the atmosphere created by the ancient Budd- 
hists who founded their monasteries and per- 
formed their religious works on this extraordinary 
site. But poor Narayan began to change. He 
was getting tired of living alone. He hardly 
talked or smiled. During the whole week he 
looked forward to the bazaar day at Vakod, and 
when it came he smiled, put on his clean turban 
and best clothes, took the money and started off 
very early. At night he returned with a little leg 
of mutton, rice, lentils and a few vegetables, 
onions and occasionally potatoes, and we en- 
joyed ourselves the same night and next day 
thoroughly ; the meat could not be kept after 
that. 

Narayan looked so sad, and soon I failed to 
make him smile, and he began to ask me: “Sahib, 
when shall we finish here? How long will your 
work take ? Aren’t we going home soon ?” 

Life was becoming very lonely and difficult 
for him. One day he took money, went to the 
bazaar, and did not come back to the caves for 
three days, while I starved on barley water. 
When he did arrive he was in a bad state—no 
clothes, no turban, no food, no money! I was 
horrified to find him like this. He said very 


128 


My Servant’s Death 


quietly, bowing his head: “Everything was 
stolen from me!” Jt was no good scolding him, 
for he might have run away from me altogether. 
Then he pressed me to let us go back to the bun- 
galow at the village of Fardapur now that the 
monsoon was over. Finally he prevailed and 
we moved back there again. 

Now the heavy downpour of rain had almost 
come to.an end, and the sun began to shine 
brightly and as hot as ever. The moist, warm 
vapour rose from the earth and there ensued an 
unhealthy season. The road was knee-deep in 
clay and mud. The heaps of rubbish and cow- 
dung around the houses and everywhere in the 
river became thick and muddy. Finally cholera 
broke out all round the villages and, at last, in 
Fardapur itself. 

One morning, after breakfast, as I was leaving 
for my day’s work at the caves, Narayan came to 
me, saying: ‘Sahib, there is cholera in the 
village.” I strictly enjoined him not to go there, 
and once more emphasised my orders that he 
was on no account to neglect the boiling and 
filtering of the water. 

That night when I returned from my day’s 
work, I found to my amazement a gorgeous wel- 
come. The bath water was hot, the drinking 
water in the filter was full, the supper was pre- 


K 129 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


pared, with home-made rolls and scones, and 
not only special chops, but also a plate full of 
pudding with cream and custard. Having en- 
joyed this unexpected comfort, I became aware | 
of Narayan hovering nervously in the background. 
He was evidently very uneasy about something, 
but he could not make up his mind to speak. 
At last: “ Sahib,” he said in a very weak voice, 
as he stood behind me, “I don’t feel well.’ 
My suspicions were roused. 

There had been cases of cholera in the village, 
and I had forbidden him to go near it. He had 
disobeyed me! I felt uneasy myself lest he might 
be sickening of that dread disease. He was cer- 
tainly very ill. He brought his blanket and 
wrapping himself in its folds, lay down on the 
ground by my side. I opened my medicine chest, 
for now I felt sure it was cholera, and gave him a 
dose of the remedy I had brought.with me. But 
alas, it was too late. He was past human aid, 
yet I struggled and fought for his life all that 
night alone in the bungalow. He sank very 
rapidly, became unconscious, and as the morning 
dawned he passed away. 

I was left alone with the corpse of this poor man, 
and not a soul would come near, for the very 
word cholera was enough to make the villagers 
flee the place. But it was essential that he 


130 


My Servant’s Death 


should be buried decently and with the kind help 
of the Patel Sahib of Fardapur, together with 
wholesale bribery and money for drinks, I pre- 
vailed on several of the stouter of the villagers to 
dig a grave. Wrapped in clean white muslin 
and his blanket we laid him to rest in the shadow 
of the great rocks near the sandy banks of the 
Baghora river. 

That evening seemed to me too terrible. The 
blood-red sun as usual went down beyond the 
deep-blue Bindhya Tange, casting long, gloomy 
shadows everywhere. The air was stifling, 
drowsy and still. I felt sad and lonely. 

I came back to the bungalow and realised that 
neither food, water nor even the place was safe 
to touch. The same night I went away for a few 
days’ change of air to my friend’s, Professor 
J. B. Raju at Nagpur, intending to bring back 
a servant with me. Many came, but as soon as 
_ they heard they would have to Stay in the jungle 
they did not wish to remain. One of the younger 
Servants agreed, however, but I did not employ 
him lest he should make the same mistake as 
Narayan, going too much to the village for 
companionship and drink and thereby catching 
the deadly diseases of cholera or plague. } 

Then in Nagpur one afternoon, while I was 
smoking away in an armchair and thinking about 


131 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


returning to the caves, there approached a tall 
old man with a big grey moustache, dressed in a 
clean white coat, turban and trousers, who gave 
me a salute and held out a bundle of old letters. 
These testimonials showed that he had served 
many of the high officials and had been head cook 
to the Chief Commissioner of Nagpur. 

Then he said, ‘‘ I am too old, nobody gives me 
work. Sahib, give me some bakshish.”’ I rather 
liked his look and explained all about my sojourn 
in the jungles of Ajanta, and asked him whether 
he would like to come to cook for me on very good 
pay. He said eagerly, assuring me: “ Yes, sir, 
I know all about those jungle places; I shall 
look after you like a father.” 

So once again I returned to the bungalow, 
feeling cheerful at having secured such a treasure 
and thinking that old Dhandu would see to my 
physical needs and I should be able to devote 
myself entirely to work in the caves. 

By this time the bungalow had been properly 
washed and made habitable. Now, with renewed 
vigour I began to copy frescoes in the caves. 

For a day or two Dhandu cooked well; but 
after a little while began to neglect first one 
thing then another. He appeared to find the 
situation less agreeable than he had hoped. 
Grumbling at me, he said: ‘ No water, no sauce- 


152 


My Servant’s Death 


pans, no coal, no gas, no nothing here.’ How 
was it likely that he could produce a dinner in 
such a place! His manner changed rapidly from 
bad to worse; he grew more and more sullen ; 
at last he forgot to answer my call; in fact even 
breakfast was impossible to get. 

He gathered round him in the kitchen a group 
of young villagers and bought them cigarettes, 
gave them my food and began to sell my things 
in return for their help while he lay all the time 
in a cot inside the kitchen. Whenever I called 
he sent a village man to me to say: ‘“ He can’t 
move, as he has rheumatism all over his body.”’ 

One day I went to see whether this tale was 
true. Apprised of my arrival, he pretended to be 
ill of cholera, took a mouthful of water before I 
entered the kitchen and vomited in front of me 
as soon as I appeared, saying: “Sahib, I am 
dying ; do please send me home from this jungle.” 
I felt sorry and disgusted to have chosen a man 
like him and, thinking he was more hindrance than 
help to my work, I decided to put up with him no 
longer; and so I paid his wages and he took a 
hasty departure, comfortably seated in a bullock 
cart. | | 
I went to Patel Sahib at Fardapur. He had 
been kind to me on several former occasions, and 
he it was who had found men to bury poor Nara- 


133 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


yan. By his influence, but with great difficulty, I 
at last managed to get a middle-aged Mussulman 
named Buddhu Miya as a cook from the village of 
Ajanta, at least he called himself a cook, though 
he knew hardly anything about his job. How- 
ever, I closed with him for a good wage and he 
stayed with me to the end. 

Once, however, I narrowly escaped losing him. 
I returned hungrier than usual to find a meal of 
only rice and lentils nasty and hard, impossible 
to eat, through not being boiled properly. In 
my annoyance I called him a pig, which upset him 
considerably. ‘“‘ Sahib,” he said, “ take off your 
shoes and beat me, but do not call me a pig.” 
I replied: ‘“ If you do not boil my food properly 
I shall call you a pig,” and thereafter he worked 
well. 

Then by tact and a little present of money I 
mollified him, and a little later suggested that as 
he had to bring my food to the caves every day, 
leaving almost no time to cook an evening meal, 
we should inhabit the caves and so save our 
tedious and uncomfortable journey to and from 
the side of the cliff. 

We therefore got hold of some men and a bul- 
lock cart from the village, and carrying our 
belongings once again we all moved on to the 
caves for a very long stay. 


134 


CHAPTER NINE 
I MOVE INTO THE CAVES 


I now lived and slept in the baranda of cave 7, 
and Buddhu Miya cooked for me outside, so that 
neither smoke nor fire could harm the walls or 
ceilings. We thus entered upon a life of interest 
and excitement which lasted for many months. 
In the course of centuries various other caves 
which fall into the second group of six, and are 
numbered 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, were excavated 
on the left side of the cliff. These excavations 
extended in point of time from about the birth of 
Christ to the fifth or sixth century 4.pD., at which 
date they were properly finished; the archi- 
tectural designs and inscriptions prove their date 
to be much later than the first group of caves. 
High up in the rock, almost directly over cave 
13 of the first group, is a large unfinished bihara, 
Number 14, which is approached by a steep 
ascent from bihara 12. This cave has no paint- 
ing or sculpture, and probably was excavated 
somewhere about 100 a.p. The baranda is of 
rather vast proportions, as it measures about 
sixty-three feet by eleven feet wide and nine feet 
high, and has six square pillars plainly decorated. 


135 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


We do not know the real reason why the hall was 
never finished and the front aisle only was par- 
tially cut out, about twelve feet, but we may con- 
jecture that this was probably due to the softer 
character of the rock, which rendered it more 
liable to crack. At each end of the baranda are 
unfinished guest-chambers which give cool shelter. 
Besides these a very neat central door and two 
windows on either side were cut. 

Next on the left of bihara 14, much lower 
down in the cliff, is a small plain bihara cave, 15. 
In the rainy season a torrent from above pours 
down, sometimes making access impossible. Pro- 
bably for the same reason the pillars of this cave 
have broken away. The baranda is thirty feet 
long, six feet wide and about ten feet high, and 
there is one cell at each end. On either side of 
the doorway are wonderfully good sculptures and 
low reliefs. The hall is almost thirty-four feet 
square and ten feet high, without columns. At 
each side are four cells. Just opposite the main 
entrance is a sanctuary, and on the shrine is a 
stone image of Buddha, which was carved out 
from the solid rock probably a little later than 
the cave. It is one of the first examples of the 
placing of an image of Buddha in a monastery 
hall; and the age of the image may be assumed to 
be about 200 a.p. Evidently this cave was once 


136 


I Move into the Caves 


fully covered with paintings, for traces still 
remain on the ceiling. 

On the left, again, is cave 16, one of the most 
important cave-temples of Buddhist India in 
this group. Even to-day, as one approaches 
this cave and its neighbour, 17, from the bot- 
tom of the ravine, one catches a glimpse of 
the golden-red frescoes within. One finds there 
the most astonishing paintings in the world for 
so early a date as the second or third century a.D. 
The style of architecture, carving and painting 
is graceful and elegant. ‘These caves are situated 
at a slightly ereater height above the bottom of 
the ravine than the caves of the first period. It 
is interesting to observe how cleverly the archi- 
tects of those days followed the vein of the rock 
where the texture was most suitable for excavation. 

The large baranda of cave 16 is sixty-five 
feet long and twelve feet wide. Six plain octa- 
gonal columns with bracket columns support the 
roof. The main entrance has two windows on 
each side, and here the wall is carved with river 
goddesses, but the paintings have perished. 
One cell leads from each end of the baranda. 
The ceiling of this cave is extensively ornamented 
with beautiful painting, a great part of which 
has unfortunately been destroyed. 

High up in the corner at the left end of the 


137 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


baranda is an inscription of a great many lines, 
mutilated by the weather. The full meaning of 
the inscription has not hitherto been deciphered, 
but one can roughly make out the meaning of 
the opening sentence: “ A king salutes first the 
renowned Buddha, who removed the intense fire 
of misery from this world.’’ And then it goes on 
to mention names of many other kings and of 
their dwellings. 

The hall is about sixty-five feet square and 
fifteen feet high, which is higher than those of 
the first group. Here as many as twenty octa- 
gonal pillars support the ceiling, and their sides 
were once painted with wreaths of flowers and 
other designs. The ceiling 1s gorgeously carved, 
representing beams and rafters, the higher ends 
being supported by brackets in the shape of 
plump and almost dwarf-like boys. This is 
peculiar to, and common in, the Ajanta sculpture 
and painting. Wherever the artist found a 
chance he introduced such figures. Six cells 
lead from each side of the interior hall and two 
are in the back wall. Directly beyond the main 
entrance in the shrine there is seated a gigantic 
statue of Buddha on a stone throne, with both 
legs stretched downwards and the hands raised 
in the teaching position. Just asin bihara No. 11 
of the first group, so here also a narrow passage 


138 


I Move into the Caves 


encircles the great image to enable the pilgrims 
or priests to walk with devotion round the 
Buddha. This was, no doubt, a residence for 
one of the big Sangha. 


In the hall a great many masterpieces of paint- 
ing still exist on the walls. But they were 
foolishly varnished by British officials, and are 





My Pilgrvmages to Ajanta and Bagh 


now almost ruined, so that one can hardly make | 
them out. On the left wall in the hall is a won- 
derful painting of a dying princess, which can 
hardly be surpassed in the history of the world’s 
art and on the same wall there are many other 
very good paintings-—for instance, Buddha with 
his mendicant’s bowl, teaching in a bihara, sur- 
rounded by kings and rich people, who kneel and 
pay him reverence. Again, on the back wall, is a 
very large scene of elephants ridden by kings 
among attendants with drums and musical in- 
struments, and soldiers with long blue curved 
swords. In another scene Buddha Deba is 
seated on a throne, teaching a great assembly of 
crowned princes and other people. On the right 
. were several other interesting paintings from the 
legend of Buddha, such as Saint Asita-muni with 
the infant Buddha in his arms and lap, and he is" 
again represented as a young Sidhartha at school 
drawing the bow and learning sports. It breaks 
one’s heart to see these marvellous pictures 
ruined through the application of varnish by 
thoughtless people who came to copy them. 

One evening a number of monkeys appeared 
in front of the cave where I was dwelling, in 
search of those wild berries which we call “ kul.” 
They are much like sour cherries with a little 
hard stone inside. 


140 





NCESS 


THE DYING PRI 


CAVE 16 





Sat ee 5 ee ae ae ‘ hosted * 
THE KING OF BENARES HONOURING THE GOLDEN GEESE. 
(Giniaw v7 


By permission of the India Society. 


I Move into the Caves 


I wanted to get rid of these uninvited guests 
for fear lest they should try to spend the night 
in my cave, and so to make them move on I 
threw a few stones. They began to slip off, but 
some clung to the trees or jumped from branch 
to branch. To make quite sure of getting rid of 
them I followed with a rod in my hand, broken 
from a branch. Suddenly some of the monkeys 
disappeared as if by magic. I investigated and 
found they had gone down some old stone steps 
towards the stream. In the jungle, of course, 





A NAGA-KING 


141 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


there are no roads and one never knows to what 
one is coming. 

In front of cave 16 I found myself in a sort 
of broken room. By its side was a little watering- 
place like a small tank or well, where there was 
still water, and there was in the chamber a 
damaged statue of a snake king, seated upon the 
coils of the snake, whose five hoods, like a canopy, 
overshadow the king’s crown. 

I descended the steps. All I could see above 
and in front of me was the jungle and trees. Some 
of the monkeys were sitting on top of these trees, 
grinning at me as I went down and down towards 
the little stream at the bottom. Suddenly I 
came to what looked like two very huge pieces 
of rock, but they were two large elephants of dark 
stone, almost life-size. I recognised them at 
once. They were the two famous elephants at 
the great ancient stairway leading to the Budd- 
hist monastery, mentioned in a book over a 
thousand years old, written by one of the great 
Chinese pilgrims of the sixth century A.D. 

Next to cave 16 is cave 17, another very fine 
bihara of the second group of caves. It looks 
as if it might be a twin cave of 16, for in size, 
exterior architectural appearance and the import- 
ance of its series of paintings it is very similar. 
As one approaches this cave one can see far off 


142 


I Move into the Caves 


through the trees the glowing red and golden 
colours of its frescoes. The date of its excava- 
tion cannot be more than fifty years later, or it 
might be even the same age. 

There is a long inscription on the left-hand top 
of the baranda outside, of about twenty-nine 
lines, in early Sanskrit verse. It would seem 
from this inscription, and that in cave 16, that 
both caves must have been built during or soon 
after the lifetime of the great Gupta emperor, 
about 875 to 418 a.p. At the right end there is a 
small hole in the floor leading to a fine cistern 
always filled with water, formerly used by the 
monks as drinking water; it can only be ap- 
proached up a flight of steps between this cave 
and 16. No doubt in olden days this hole, for 
safety, was covered over by a wooden lid, as 
can be seen by the ledge cut inside the aperture 
on which the lid used to rest. 

There are two cells in the baranda. At the 
left end over the cell there is a circular piece of 
painting divided into eight compartments, repre- 
senting the Buddhist wheel of life. This has 
been much injured by the visitors, who attempted 
to remove parts of the paintings from the wall. 
The compartments have been filled with human 
figures, variously employed, men, women, ani- 


143 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


mals, utensils, buildings, streets, all representing 
the circle of existence. | 

As regards more than two-thirds of the lower 
part of the baranda, no vestiges of frescoes remain, 
but on the upper part of the back wall is a good 
deal of painting in fragments. Over the central 
door is a lovely row of eight Buddhas, seated 





PAINTING OVER THE DOOR OF CAVE 17 


cross-legged in different moods, the hands up- 
lifted in the act of teaching or benediction, one 
with a royal crown. Below on the lintel is a 
series of eight small panel designs in compart- 
ments containing two figures each, lovers offering 
flowers and drink to one another, some figures 
painted with fair and some with dark complexions. 

Above the door into the hall in this cave 17 
are two very attractive carved female figures, 
but all the space in the caves was once most 
elaborately covered with paintings. The pillars 


144 





ANDA. 


EILING OF BAR 


Cc 


+ 
je 


CAVE I 


GROUP OF MUSICIANS PASSING THROUGH THE AIR. 


CAVE 17. 





I Move into the Caves 


of the baranda are plain octagon bracket capitals, 
but the bases are more elegant than usual. 

To the left of the baranda is a group of three 
fairies, accompanied by a male figure floating 
through the air in the night. Behind the figures 
are thick white clouds. Such flying figures are 
very usually found in pairs in Buddhist sculptures 
and in the paintings of this age. The whole 
composition is perfect. In its purity of outline 
and the elegance of its grouping it is one of the 
finest and most fascinating of the smaller paint- 
ings at Ajanta. The easy upward motion of the 
whole group is rendered in a manner that could 
not easily be surpassed. 

To the right of the baranda wall, just on top of | 
the window space, is the scene in which Buddha’s 
cousin, Debadatta, tries to get Buddha destroyed 
by an enraged elephant, but the huge creature 
kneels with reverence at Buddha’s feet. The 
ceiling is very beautifully adorned with charming 
designs in good condition. On the whole this 
cave contains more paintings than any other cave, 
- in spite of the fact that even here there has been 
much wilful destruction at the hands of European 
visitors. 

The hall is entered by a central door, resem- 
bling that in 16, and by two side doors. It is 
further lighted by two windows. This apartment 


L 145 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


is sixty-three feet wide by sixty-two feet long 
and thirteen feet high, its roof being supported by 
twenty octagonal pillars, all plain, except the two 
in the middle of the front and back rows, which 
have square bases, shafts partly octagonal and 
partly sixteen-sided, covered with paintings. 
The ante-chamber is small, with two figures in 
front, but the shrine is eighteen feet wide by 
twenty feet deep, and in front of the great 
image there stand on the floor, two figures one 
holding a mendicant’s bowl, the other damaged. 
There are also two attendants on each side of the 
Buddha and two fan-bearers. The hall contains 
sixteen cells. The whole interior is similar to that 
of Number 16. Here again the roof shows the 
wooden construction, and the pillars which abe 
port it have fat boys as brackets. | 

In the hall, on the wall of the left aisle, on the 
left end of the back wall, and everywhere, many 
wonderful paintings are still in existence, in spite 
of being much ruined with smoke, dirt and var- 
nish. There are over sixty distinct scenes of 
subject painting in this cave 17. 

On the middle of the right wall is a large at 
marvellous painting. It represents the legend of 
the landing of King Bijaya on Ceylon, and his 
conquest of the island. 

In the left-hand corner a procession of elephants 


146 





THE CAPTURE OF THE ELEPHANTS. 
CAVE 17. 





THE BODHISATVA AS A SIX-TUSKED ELEPHANT. 
CAVES IZ: 


By permission of the India Society. 





LANDING AND CORONATION OF KING BIJAYA IN CEYLON. 


CAVE 17. 


I Move into the Caves 


1s rushing through the gate; the cavalry and war 
elephants are crossing the Indian Ocean in boats ; 
and on the shore are the demons, giant natiees 
of Ceylon, preventing their landing. It is a 
narrative composition, but the whole subject is 
told in one picture. 

In the upper part appears the white horse, sig- 
nifying that the king has now conquered the whole 
land. From very ancient times it was the custom 
that before the coronation of a great king took 
place a riderless white horse should be let loose 
over the country, followed by hundreds of soldiers, 
and if any other king desired to challenge the 
king’s right of subjection and objected to the 
passing of the horse through his land, he tried to 
capture the horse. But if the horse returned un- 
challenged, it proved the king to be the acknow- 
ledged ruler of the land, and he was then crowned. 

In this painting the unchallenged horse has 
come back and looks proudly toward the king, 
while the soldiers bow. The coronation is taking 
place in the right-hand corner, where is the king 
_ surrounded by beautiful dancing girls and musi- 
cians, and the parijata flowers are falling from 
above as a blessing from the gods in heaven. 

Although this painting represents so many 
scenes, they have been grouped together to form 
one lovely picture. 


147 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


The slanting spears, the waving flags, the for- 
ward lean of the elephant-riders and the curved 
heads and huddled trunks of the elephants all 
express the emotion of great movement. The 
fight outside the city is divided from the triumphal 
entry and the coronation by a suggestion of a 
rampart. The flowers from heaven fall only on 
the inner side of the rampart. The oars of the 
boat are directed one way only, in order to 
emphasize the great speed at which the boat is 
being driven through the water. On the left 
of the shrine door in this cave 17 is another 
painting of pre-eminent beauty and grandeur. 
The subject of the composition seems to be 
the return of Buddha after his enlightenment, 
to his wife and son, Rahula. His _ glorified 
figure towers colossal against a night sky, and his 
feet rest on a white lotus on a deep Indian red 
eround. In his right hand is a begging bowl and 
his left hand uplifts his yellow robe. Over him 
an angel holds a canopy of flowers, and parijata 
flowers also fall upon him from heaven, while his 
wife and child on a balcony of the house, look up 
in adoration. 

This painting must be one of the most majestic 
and tender in the world, showing intense love 
and spiritual devotion, and to many will be a 
revelation of the heights to which Indian art has 


148 





A HUNTING SCE 
CAVE 17. 





By permission of the India Society. 





AVE 19. 


ADE OF C 


FAC 


st Move into the Caves 


attained. Like many others, it shows what 
masters of animated composition and complex 
movement were those painters who worked in 
the early centuries. 

There are hundreds of painted scenes in every 
part of this monastery hall, and they are of great 
interest. One of special power depicts a hunt 
of lions, black buck, and elephants. The colouring 
is vivid, and the foliage and lotus leaves are 
painted with a rich green. The whole posing 
and grouping has an air of modernity. The 
animals, horses, elephants, dogs, are all extremely 
well-drawn, the massive colours and contours 
painted with solid brush strokes. 

Then comes cave 18, which is really no more 
than a porch, just over ninteen feet by about 
nine feet, and has two pillars. Apparently it 
was intended for a passage to the next cave, 
19, and possibly to cover a water cistern down 
below. It was excavated about the same time 
as 17. | | 

At that date hundreds of monks had gathered 
together; and, with their morning and evening 
prayer, made the gorge as noisy asa bazaar. They 
needed another chaitya cave for their worship and 
so made the temple now known as Number 19 to 
serve as the third chaitya; it is much smaller 
than cave 10, and almost the same size as 9, 


149 


My Esgiengges to Ajanta and Bagh 


of the first group. So 19 was excavated, the only 
chaitya cave in the second group. 

It is about twenty-four feet wide by forty-six 
feet long by twenty-four feet high, and it is 
elaborately carved with sculptures and orna- 
mental decorative designs, both inside and out, 
and they remain as distinct at 
the present day as when they 
were first wrought. There is 
only one entrance to this cave. 

The whole of the composi- 
tion of this cave is very pleas- 
ing, and it has scarcely suffered 
at all from the, hand of time. 
The decorative carving in front 
is very elaborate, and consists of 
PLAN OF CAVE 19 Buddhas and additional images 

afterwards carved on_ the 
fagade. From the facade of this chaitya temple 
projects a bold and carefully carved cornice, 
broken only at the left end by the fall of a heavy 
mass of rock. In front has been an enclosed 
court, thirty-three feet wide by thirty feet 
deep, but the left side of it has nearly dis- 
appeared. 

On the right of the main entrance by the soe: 
is a bas-relief sculpture of a colossal Buddha, who 
has returned home after his Enlightenment. 





150 


AN ALCOVE FOR REPOSE. 





ROOF ABOVE TRIFORIUM. 





TRIFORIUM OF CHAITYA 





LOWER PART OF FACADE. 








A CAPITAL IN THE BARANDA. 
CAVE 24. 





THE RIGHT SIDE OF THE NAVE. 
CAVE 19. 


I Move into the Caves 


His wife is lifting forward her son Rahula to 
place alms in his father’s begging bowl. 

In the next compartment he is standing in 
front of a stupa richly ornamented and _ sur- 
mounted by the triple umbrella. Above, on the 
upper right-hand corner, he is represented again 
in the most usual standing attitude, preaching, 
his right hand hanging down, his left raised. 
Probably these sculptures are of a later date. 

There are many Buddhas sitting cross-legged, 
and standing in the usual attitude of exposition. 

The whole of the front of this cave is fully - 
covered with sculptured groups and with most 
elaborate ornamentation, still in very good pre- 
servation. The great arched window above the 
porch shows the wooden forms of the ribs. The 
stone imitation of wooden structure is very 
prominent in this cave, and the rafters and beams 
were carefully hewn out in the ceilings. At the 
right angle of the main facade is a place of repose 
for pilgrims or attendants. The room is small in 
size, the capitals of the pillars are richly carved 
with mango branches and clusters of grapes in the 
middle. 

Opposite to the rest-house is a great sculpture 
of a snake king, who probably was a strong sup- 
porter of Buddhism, seated under a canopy of a 
seven-hooded cobra snake, with his queen by his 


151 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


side. In her left hand she holds a lotus flower. 
On the right a female attendant was carved with a 
fly-fan in her hand. 

On each side of the great arch window is a male 
figure in halo and rich head-dress; that on the 
left holds a bag and represents the God of Wealth ; 
a tiny child counting the money at so early an 
age seems to be already following in the father’s 
footsteps. 

Inside, in the nave, there are fifteen columns 
about fifteen feet high. At the square bases of 
these pillars are some small figures on the corners. 
These pillars support a bracket capital, each 
richly sculptured with a sitting Buddha in the 
centre, and elephants, or two riders, or tigers, or 
flying figures on the brackets. Elaborate sculp- 
tures over the capitals give great richness of effect 
to the interior of this cave. They appear to be 
symbolic of Buddhism, and each composition is 
a legend. | 

The whole of the interior was once covered with 
a thin coating of white plaster, so as to hide the 
surface of the rock entirely ; but in spite of this 
the sculptors worked with great pains to produce 
elaborate carving. There is not much variety 
in the sculptures of the triforium belt itself. 
These consist of alternate sitting or standing 
figures of Buddha, the sitting ones all cross- 


152 





é : ee a E ees 
A NAGA-KING, QUEEN, AND ATTENDANT. 
CAVE IQ. 





INTERIOR OF CAVE 10. 


I Move wto the Caves 


legged,—the only variety being in the position of 

the hands, every different attitude of which has 
an important meaning attached to it. Between 
each of these seated Buddhas stands a figure in 
the usual attitude of exposition, and the attitude 
in all is very nearly the same, and yet no two 
figures are exactly alike. 

A great dome rises eight feet. Its ribs are 
made of stone, and between every fourth and 
fifth rib is carved a tiger’s head. A most gor- 
geously wrought stupa stands opposite the main 
door, which has a bas-relief of a standing Buddha, 
and on the top of the stupa are three umbrellas 
in stone one above the other. 

The roof of the aisle is flat and has been painted 
with ornamental flower scrolls, Buddhas and 
stupas, and on the walls have been paintings of 
Buddha as well as attendants, the upper two 
rows sitting and the third mostly standing, 
showing halos behind the heads. 

The arrangement for the lighting of the interior 
of this cave is simply wonderful. The daylight 
introduced through one great opening in the 
facade throws a brilliant light on the altar, the 
principal object, and also upon the capitals of 
the pillars, exactly where it is most wanted. The 
spectator himself stands in the shade. The 
light on the floor is subdued and the roof and the 


153 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


aisles fade into comparative gloom. The porch 
at the back of the court under the great arched 
windows still stands. The five pillars on each 
side of the nave separate the aisle from it, and five 
more run round the stupa. , 

This cave contains many painted Buddhas in 
the aisles, and a few others with figures of chaityas 
still remain on the roof. The roof of the front 
aisle contains some exquisite panels, and those 
of the side aisles are painted in a rich floriated 
pattern. 

Temple 19 at Ajanta remains one of the great 
architectural triumphs of the world. The next 
cave, 20, is a small bihara, or monastery, with two 
gorgeously carved columns in front of the 
baranda. They have brackets attached to their 
capitals, and there is a charming statuette of a 
woman under a canopy of foliage. The sculp- 
tures of these is bold and free, much resembling 
those in cave 19. The sides of the steps to the 
baranda level are carved with beautiful decorative 
designs of river snakes, known as maharas. The 
ceiling of the baranda is hewn in imitation of 
wooden beams and rafters which remind one of 
caves 16 and 17. At each end of the baranda is 
a cell. 

The hall has no columns. The size is twenty- 


154 


I Move into the Caves 


eight feet wide, twenty-six feet long and about 
thirteen feet high. 

The roof is supported only by the walls and the 
front of the ante-chamber, which advances about 
seven feet into the cave and has in front two 
columns, surmounted by seven carved figures of 
Buddha and attendants. 

The image of Buddha in the shrine has once 
been painted with deep Indian red. Perhaps this 
was done at a much later date by some less reli- 
gious artists. 

It seems very much as though this cave was 
used as a chapter-house for this last group of 
caves. The interior is very dark, but is dry and 
keeps an equable temperature all the year round. 

The whole of this cave at one time was painted, 
but now, except for fragments on the roof, all 
have disappeared. These fragments consist of 
flowers and interlaced designs. 

From this cave we descend, and then descend 
again by a steep path for a considerable distance 
along the face of the scarp. 


155 


CHAPTER TEN 
ADVENTURES—PLEASANT AND OTHERWISE 


From very early morning until late into the night 
I worked. By day I copied the parts of the walls 
that were well lit, and by night those that were 
always dark; thus I economised both in petrol 
and my eyesight. Life resolved itself into work, 
eating and sleeping, and escapes from seen and 
unseen foes. 

Every morning when I went down to the 
stream for my ablutions I found the footprints of 
tigers, panthers and wolves, which had come down 
to drink at night, and it was interesting to see 
the little ones’ footprints with them. Why these 
animals never hurt me I do not know. Perhaps 
they had become Buddhist and sympathised 
with my work. 

In the autumn the colours changed to glorious 
browns and reddish golds, and red blossoms 
spread like flames on the hills; gradually the 
trees dropped their leaves and the whole forest 
became bare, and it seemed all waiting in silent 
prayer for the coming Spring. 

As the sun went down old vultures came to 
their rocky nests by the waterfalls and owls 


156 


Adventures—-Pleasant and Otherwise 


hooted through the night. The opposite hill 
gave me a living picture of animal and bird life 
at all times of the day. Peacocks could be seen 
everywhere in the jungle, by the stream, on the 
rocks and trees, and their harsh squeaking voice 
echoed from one side to the other of the hills. 
The very first peacock I saw at Ajanta was sitting 
towards nightfall on a black rock which pierced 
the white sky. By slow degrees it descended to 
the stream at the end of the hill to drink water. 

One night I entered one of the less-explored 
eaves; a very large unfinished one, which was 
hardly ever cleaned and smelt stale and terrible, 
while water leaked through the ceiling. The 
hall was of great extent, and thick columns rose 
to the ceiling, gorgeously carved and decorated. 
The atmosphere was fearful and solemn. I felt 
I was not alone. As I advanced into the middle, 
with my petrol lamp in my hand, there was a whirr 
of wings, and hundreds of swallows began to fall, 
dazed at the light, striking my head and body 
and tumbling to the ground. Bats, too, were 
flying about. The ground and all round me was 
so thick with these black rock swallows that I 
was afraid of treading upon them, and could not 
work in that cave by night. 

Another evening, about twilight, just as I was 
getting ready for my little supper of curry and 


157 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


rice which Buddhu Miya was preparing, I heard 
a crash, and in front of me fell a big heavy stone! 
Almost immediately another followed, and had 
I been just two or three feet farther forward I 
should have been killed that evening by these 
fragments of rock. I was startled, and asked my 
servant : ‘* What is all this? What does it mean ? 
Is it an earthquake ?” He also was quite dumb- 
founded. Bs a 
A little later we went by the side of the caves 
to see what was above my cave and on the top 
of the hills. The sides of these caves ascend like 
a straight wall, and when we came out we saw 
that there were hundreds of monkeys quarrelling 
and fighting each other along the top of the hills. 
My danger may have resulted from accident, 
but I think the little beasts had seen me, and it 
was not just chance that had sent those stones so 
near to my head. 
~My servant pointed to the sky and said: 
“‘ Look,”? and I saw the advance of heavy threat- 
ening clouds. He then explained that there 
would be a mighty storm that night, and the wild 
monkeys, knowing this, came along from the 
jungle to get shelter for the night in these caves. 
Of course there was no door to my cave. I 
slept without protection of any kind, it was open 
to whatever animal or bird chose to come in, 


158 


Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 


But although monkeys do not live in caves 
they were searching for safe corners between the 
_ plain rocks and in the recesses of carved columns 
where they could cling out of reach of their 
natural enemies, the prowling hyenas and 
tigers. 

They turned up that night, but behaved very 
well, and after all no one likes to get wet, so there 
they stayed. But the monkeys, although annoy- 
ing, were not so dangerous as some of my other 
enemies, both tinier and larger, and the tiny ones 
were poison bees. 

On one occasion as I was passing from cave 10 
to another with my petrol lamp in my hand, my 
head was suddenly surrounded by a swarm of 
bees. There are many combs of wild bees hanging 
on the roof of these caves. Once a year the 
village people come to collect honey. They 
gather a special kind of leaf from certain jungle 
trees, and making a fire of them create a smoke 
which worries the bees. They are so sensitive 
to the smell of the smoke that at once they try 
to eat up their honey, and millions of them, 
producing a dark cloud, fly miles away to avoid 
the smell. Then the people collect what is left 
of the honey to sell in the market. I had uncon- 
sciously enacted the part of the honey-gatherers 
and the bees smelling the fumes of my petrol 


159 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


lamp thought their enemies were near and began 
to come down.. All I could do was to run, for 
if attacked they were most deadly, and it is said 
that sometimes they are so poisonous that the 
sting of one is enough to kill an elephant. 

The chowkhidars of the caves told me that once 
an official of the Nizam’s Government came to 
inspect the caves. He was passing along outside 
cave 10, quite carelessly puffing away at a cigar, 
when down came a swarm of bees and stung his 
bald head. Then he grew absolutely frantic and 
ran towards the stream shouting for help; but 
the faster he ran and the angrier he became, the 
more the bees kept stinging. In desperation, he 
plunged into the water. Thereupon these chowk- 
hidars rushed out to his rescue, wrapped him in 
rugs, and, since his head was badly swollen, 
carried him to the village. 

The only moment I felt really scared was one 
night towards the end of my long and lonely life 
in the caves. It was just before midnight. The 
outside of the cave was fairly bright with the 
stars above. I had been to bed early and was 
sleeping peacefully in my little cot when some- 
thing made me wake up, and I found myself 
sitting up in strained attention. Something was 
going to happen! Sure enough it did. 

Very slowly a great dark shape passed in front 


160 


Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 


of my cave; I watched eagerly to know what it 
was. It went gradually on. I thought; ‘ I hope 
I am not dreaming,” and rubbed my eyes and 
looked again. From the right-hand side of the 
caves another shape followed the first, only 
much bigger. It must have been four or five feet 
long and about four feet high. When it came in 
front of where I was sitting up motionless, it 
seemed to be looking straight at me! I saw two 
spots of light like eyes, and then they turned and 
directed themselves away and passed into the 
jungle. It was a huge tiger ! 

My servant was lying asleep like a log in the 
left-hand corner of the cave. I was terribly 
frightened, but the fear of losing him altogether 
prevented me from giving a true version of my 
experience. I just described the beast as a 
‘jackal or something.”’ I thought if he knew 
the truth he might run away from me altogether. 
The next morning I was able to trace a regular © 
catwalk down to the torrent bed by which these 
animals went to and fro. It passed along the 
terrace outside of my cave, but three or four 
yards from where I used to sleep. After that 
Buddhu Miya and I used to collect huge logs of 
wood from the jungle every evening to build a 
great fire on the terrace. . 

Sometimes, late into the night, I copied the 
frescoes in the caves which I had selected before- 


M 161 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


hand. After supper was my time to study and 
to wander round the caves to amuse myself. 

The paintings in these caves were not neces- 
sarily the work of one artist, but of many, some 
of whom were most probably the monks them- 
selves. Of course, the best walls were given to 
the best artists. 

Among the Hindus round about the village of 
Ajanta the story goes that once the gods and 
goddesses, tired of the monotony of heaven, and 
desiring to refresh themselves with a little excite- 
ment, begged leave to go down to earth for one 
night to enjoy themselves. So earnestly did 
they entreat Indra, God of Heaven, that in com- 
passion he granted their request, with the con- 
dition, however, that they should return before 
the cock’s first crow, otherwise they would be 
shut out from heaven for ever. 

Then the gods and goddesses came down swiftly 
to the earth, dancing and singing for joy, and no 
sooner did they see the splendid gorge near 
Ajanta than they chose it for the site of their 
one night’s entertainment: Busily they hol- 
lowed out of the hillside, halls and chambers and 
so thoroughly enjoyed themselves that they for- 
got the time limit; but, alas, they were startled 
by the cock’s crow, and the king of heaven’s 
curse fell upon them, and so they transformed 


162 


A dventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 


themselves into beautiful sculptures and paint- 
ings. Never again could they return to heaven, 
but were forced to remain on earth for ever. 

The poor illiterate people are so ignorant that 
they do not even know that these caves are 
Buddhist monasteries; but connect them with 
this legend. However, the villagers have always 
known of the existence of the caves, and from 
very ancient times, once a year, they still hold a 
traditional fair down by the stream below the 
caves, where priests, men, women and children 
can visit the caves, and spend one day of the 
year in an entirely different way from all the 
rest, about the end of November. 

One early morning, near cave 1, I began to 
hear a noise of people and rumble of bullock 
carts. As it was impossible for the carts to go 
farther, the people approached gradually towards 
the source of the stream. All day long Hindu 
people were arriving from everywhere around, 
sometimes from as many as thirty miles away, 
starting for the festival even two or three days 
before. : 

They began to settle in the valley and to bathe 
in the stream, afterwards putting on fresh gor- 
geously-coloured clothes, red, green, purple and 
yellow, and then went into the temples. The 
priests each took charge of three or four caves, in 


163 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


order to show to the pilgrims the images of 
Buddha sitting cross-legged in the shrine, at 
whose feet or into whose lap they gave offerings of 
flowers, fruit, a little rice, small earthenware 
lamps, and money. As soon as one batch of wor- 
shippers had passed out the priest would take the 
food and money into his own keeping. 

Meanwhile, below in the ravine, as the sun went 
higher up in the sky, alittle noisy bazaar gradually 
sprang up, with small stalls for selling food, sweet- 
meats, flowers, fruits, clothes, earthenware lamps, 
toys and reed pipes for children. 

Throughout the whole day a continuous stream 
of people came and went to and from the caves, 
others bathed and worshipped, cooked and ate, 
reclined, slept or sang by the stream. The fair 
lasted until the fall of day, when the people 
eradually deserted the ancient shrines, leaving 
the valley once more lonely and still. 

It happened one day that while I was examining 
closely the colossal image of Buddha in cave 
16 and was feeling the smoothness of his arms, I 
felt something hard sticking up in the joint of 
one of the arms. Feeling rather curious, I dug 
it out of the accumulated dirt with a penknife and 
found it to be a heavy thick piece of metal, which, 
on being brought to the light, appeared to be a 
coin, apparently very ancient. 


164 


Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 


Some time later, professors from Calcutta 
University came for a short visit to the caves. I 
showed them the coin, and they, with much ex- 
-citement, told me it might be a very early Budd- 
hist coin. When it had been cleaned, however, 
it proved to be an early Mahomedan coin, about 
five hundred years old. Evidently some Hindu 
pilgrim had placed it as an offering in the hand of 
Buddha. 

This goes to prove that even in those early days 
the caves were known to the Hindus, who used to 
come and worship there, but not to the Maho- 
medans, who would otherwise have destroyed 
the whole place, as they did destroy other caves 
and temples in India. 

Occasionally a few Hindu people come to fish 
in the deep lake at the bottom of the falls or to 
gather wood and wild fruits in the jungle around 
the ravine, and then they wander into the caves. 
It is astonishing to see that their faces and 
features, simple movements, and simplicity of 
nature are exactly like these old paintings, 
especially resembling the frescoes in caves 9 and 
10. 

The hillside was always covered with wild 
fruits and flowers; but now, in the autumn 
fragrant siuly-flowers bloomed all along the way- 
side, over the boulders and in amongst the pome- 


165 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


granates, grapes and rich ripe berries. So fragile 
were they that at the first touch of the sun the 
white petals and orange stems drooped. I was 
reminded of the far-gone days when the simple 
monks lived chiefly on the fruits and vegetables 
they grew, of which these I saw were the faint 
wild traces. 

In the stream and all along its banks are 
scattered millions of little diamond-shaped stones, 
black, vermilion red, and yellow. One feels a 
ereat desire to collect them. It was this rock- 
colour with which the artists of Ajanta used to 
paint their frescoes. In Sanskrit literature is this 
reference to rock colour: ‘His companion 
picks up from the ground pieces of clay or stone 
of different colours,—blue, yellow, red, brown and 
erey.”’ But this crude material was known not 
only in those times, but even to-day among the 
Indian village artists it is used for executing huge 
images of gods and goddesses. In Bengal such 
artists have shewn me their lampblacks, their 
glues and their rice waters and their numerous 
rock colours. The rich Indian red (known as 
Geri-mati) can be bought by chunks for a penny 
or two in the bazaar. The glue is obtained by 
boiling the tamarine seed. 

From various references in old Sanskrit writings 
it is known that wall painting was exceedingly 


166 


Adventures—Pleasant and Otherwise 


common in India from very ancient times, all 
the rich people having their walls decorated with 
frescoes. And even up till to-day this traditional! 
art has survived, though in rather a decadent 
way; so that paintings of elephants, hunting 
tigers, soldiers on horseback, mythological gods 
and goddesses, a parrot on an apple tree, and 
two bulls or goats fighting one another are found 
on the fronts, backs and sides of houses, as well 
as alpana designs, which every Indian woman 
knows and with which, using the tips of her 
fingers, in a few hours she can cover a large wall 
or floor. 


167 


CHAPTER ELEVEN 
THE FINEST PERIOD OF INDIAN ART 


Durineé the years from the third century to the > 
sixth century A.D., another group of caves was cut 
out on the eastern side of the hill and to the right 
of the caves of the first period. These six caves 
are now numbered 6, 5, 4, 8, 2, 1. All day itis 
impossible to see clearly within them, so dark are 
they; but at evening, just before the sun sinks 
in the west, they light up, and the frescoes glow 
on the walls. They fall into the third group of 
excavations in the Ajanta series. 

Cave 6.—This bihara cave 6 is the only one 
here at Ajanta which has two storeys, but has, 
unfortunately, been excavated in a spot where 
the rock is not so sound as in other places. In 
consequence of this, the baranda of the upper 
storey has fallen down, and the interior has a 
damp and ruined aspect not common in cave 
architecture. | 

The halls of both storeys are of about the same 
dimensions, fifty-three feet square. ‘There are 
four large windows which light the halls, and the 
stone wall under them is panelled to give the effect 
of wood. The upper storey has twelve pillars. In 
the lower, four more are introduced in the centre. 


168 





ER STORBY: 


< 


OW 


FACADE OF THE L 


E 6. 


CAv 





AVE 6 


INTERIOR OF C 


"ZI HAV) 
“UNAS AAOT IVAON 





The Finest Period of Indian Art 


In the facade, on each side of the doorway, in 
the upper corner there must surely once have 
been two carved figures, but these have now 
fallen away. Local mendicants lived in this cave 
- and made fires, which did much damage to the 
interior and the paintings on the walls and 
ceilings therein. 

Out of the sixteen pillars in the lower hall, only 
a few now remain standing. The others col- 
lapsed because of the mud which covered the 
lower parts and caused them to weaken and 
crumble away. Not these pillars alone have 
given way, but also masses of stone from the 
ceiling have fallen. 

_ The stair in the front aisle leading to the upper 
storey has been broken away below, but is still 
connected with the baranda above. This baranda 
was originally supported by two fine columns and 
four pilasters. Above the landing are many 
small Buddhas carved on the wall, and two stupas. 
- Qutside the baranda in the upper storey are 
small chapels with sculptured Buddhas. There 
are also at each end of the baranda small chambers 
with carved pillars ; no doubt these were specially 
built for the living apartments of the high priests. 
Inside these chambers there are rooms large 
enough for consultations and other purposes. 

Opposite the central space at each side and at 


169 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


the end of the left aisle are chambers with pillars 
in front, each leading to an inner cell. There are 
also three cells on each side and one at the end of 
the right aisle. The shrine contains the usual 
statue of Buddha. 

The ante-chamber is quite large and has a 
colossal figure of Buddha on each side of the 
shrine door. The shrine contains the usual 
statue of Buddha with two antelopes on the front 
of the throne. 

This cave also has been painted, but the paint- 
ings have almost entirely disappeared. It has 
also a larger number of sculptures of Buddhas 
than any other bihara at Ajanta. 

The few fragments of painting on the back 
wall of the lower storey and in the ante-chamber 
are so smoked that nothing can be made out of 
them, except a large palace scene and Indra-like 
figures on both sides of the shrine. 

The upper storey has been painted, but this has 
almost entirely disappeared. The front of the 
chapel in the right end of the front aisle still 
retains fragments of the painting, and inside 
the walls have been covered with painted Bud- 
dhas. In the left chapel in front, on each side 
of the cell-door, is a painted Drabirian building, 
a bihara, on the inside of the baranda roof of 
which is a circular ornament, with strings of 


170 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


pearls hanging from it, and inside the’ bihara is 
a seated Buddha. 

The lower storey of cave 6 has its pillars 
arranged in different formation from that in the 
later Ajanta caves, where there would have been 
twelve round a square. Here they are arranged 
in four rows of four each, sixteen in all, and 
without capitals or sculpture. 

Great pains were taken with the statues of 
Buddha; one in the small chamber to the right 
of the first floor of cave 6 is covered with a layer 
of the finest plaster, one eighth of an inch thick, 
so painted and polished that the face has the 
smoothness and sheen of porcelain. 

This is the earliest cave of the third group and 
probably it dates from 450 a.pD. to 550 A.D. 

Now we pass on to cave 4, the largest bihara 
in the whole series of twenty-nine caves at 
Ajanta. The next largest is cave 24. 

It is situated higher up in the cliff than 38, 
and probably a little higher than the next three 
at this end of the hill. Simple grandeur gives 
it a wonderfully beautiful appearance. 

The facade is covered with eight plain octag- 
onal figure-pillars. The huge baranda, ninety 
feet long by sixteen feet wide, is supported by 
severe octagonal pillars with bracket capitals. 
At each end is a small room, ten feet by eight 


171 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


feet, reached by three steps, which were probably 
chambers for guests or for the keeper of the cave. 

In the wall at the back of the baranda the 
central door is sculptured instead of painted, 
which is unusual at Ajanta. The reason is that 
at the later date of this excavation artists were 
not content with painting, but felt an irresistible 
impulse to a more plastic form of decoration. 
Unfortunately, this door has been damaged up 
to a height of two feet, the floor of the cave having 
for long been filled with earth. However, the 
decoration on the wall each side is still unharmed. 
Here are depicted fascinating scenes of men and 
women, making merry, stories about lions, bulls, 
monkeys, goats rampant and elephants, and 
also, on the right side, a large standing relief of 
Buddha, a prince, young, strong and beautiful. 

The square windows are charmingly carved 
with delicate whirling foliage, and among it a 
few female figures and chubby babies. 

The hall is eighty-seven feet square, supported 
by twenty-eight columns of the same plain style 
as those of the baranda. At each end of the aisle 
is a cell. The ceiling looks rough, as though a 
layer of rock had fallen off; but here, and 
nowhere else in the cave, are traces of painting in 
brilliant colours. The ante-chamber, twenty-one 
feet by thirteen feet, has two standing Buddhas 


172 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


at each end of its wall and on either side of the 
shrine door are two similar figures. 

Cave 8.—This cave, a small bihara placed 
high up on the western top of the crescent hill, 
dating from the seventh century, was never 
completed ; in fact, only the baranda was blocked 
out. The baranda is about twenty-nine feet 
by seven feet, and supported by four pillars 
and two pilasters. A rough entrance has been 
made into the hall, but there has been scarcely 
any excavation. 

CavE 5.—This is another bihara cave, at the 
same level as Number 6, possessing no pecu- 
liarity and never quite finished. We may assume 
it to be of about the same date as cave 6. 

The baranda is over forty-five feet long by 
about nine feet wide, with four front pillars ; 
but only one—that on the right side of the en- 
trance—is finished, quite plainly in the same style 
as those of neighbouring cave, 4, only much 
shorter and with a square base to the bottom. 

The door of this cave is rather interesting, with 
its many carved standing figures of Buddha and 
attendants and pairs.of seated figures. Windows 
have been cut out but never finished. 

No doubt the rock here was found unsuitable 
for excavation, and therefore the whole cave was 
left unfinished. 


173 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


CAVE 2.—The second cave, one of the latest 
of the series, is similar to but smaller than its 
neighbour, cave 1. It is one of the cave most 
notable for its richness in fresco paintings, 
which are marvellously preserved, in spite of 
their exposed position. 

The baranda, slightly over forty-six feet in 
length, is supported in front by four pillars and 









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PLAN OF CAVE 2 


two pilasters of massive proportions, all with 
similarly elegant designs; so fine and delicate 
indeed are the ornamentations that they would 
seem more suited to metal work than to stone. 
At either end of the baranda in front of the two 
principal cells stands a small porch, the difference 
in height being made up by bas-reliefs repre- 
senting scenes from the life of Buddha. A 
chapel-room leads from each porch. 


174 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


Between the hall and the baranda is a finely 
decorated door, at the bottom of which are 
several guards, apparently holding flowers ; cover- 
ing them are snake-canopies. Above this are 
numerous pairs of standing figures, male and 
- female, carved in various attitudes. The cave 
has two windows placed opposite to the side 
aisle formed by the richly-carved columns in the 
hall. 

One is a little taken aback on entering the hall 
to find it so dark and redolent of bats. Its dimen- 
sions are only about forty-eight feet square and 
eleven feet high. The twelve pillars supporting 
the roof are rich in carving and some have fat 
four-armed dwarfs at the corners of the capitals. 

In the sanctuary is a statue; of course, of 
Buddha. On either side of it, at the end of the 
aisles, is a chapel cell filled with marvellous sculp- 
ture. In the one on the north sit two most 
portly figures, the female has a child on her 
knees and is amusing it with a toy. In the south 
chapel two male figures occupy a like position. 

The beauty of this cave is due to the paintings, 
especially those on the ceilings. For the most 

‘part they are only decorative scrolls and patterns ; 
but so appropriately placed as to give an ex- 
tremely finished look to the cave; in fact, the 
effect and arrangements of a complete bihara 


175 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


can be better understood from this cave than from 
any other at Ajanta. A very great deal of the 
painting still remains. In the baranda the 
pattern on the wall can be easily followed. 

Inside, the ceilings of the great hall and aisles, 
the ante-chamber, shrine, and chapels are all 
admirably designed, and though, especially in 
the hall, blackened with smoke, they contain 
many striking examples of floral decorations, 
Naga and flying figures, and others with human 
and animal heads, but the lower extremities 
ending in scroll work. 

It is the only cave that retains any fragments of 
painting in the shrine, the ceiling being espe- 
cially fine. 

The painting in the two chapels 1s of a yellower 
tone than most of the other wall paintings, and 
is filled with standing figures, many of them 
women, some with aureoles round their heads, 
and is possibly of later date than the rest, pro- 
bably of the seventh century. On the right wall 
of the hall is one of the most interesting groups 
of pictures now left, one of the scenes between 
the second and third cell doors below being the 
retinue of a raja. He sallies forth on a large 
elephant with the umbrella of state over his head, 
and the ankusa, or goad, in his hand ; behind him 
is an attendant with the chatra (or umbrella) ; at 


176 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


his side goes a smaller elephant, with a rider now 
defaced, and before it walks a man with a laden 
bag on his back. In front, advance to the left five 
horses, two of them green, the men on the green 
horses looking back at the Raja. There are also 
fourteen men on foot, of whom eleven seem to be 
soldiers, carrying oblong shields, and three carry- 
ing round ones stamped with huge grinning 
Gorgon faces. Two above on the extreme left 
have swords in scabbards, nine others have Nepal 
swords known as khukri or dabiyasms, but very 
long ; two other men play flutes, and one beats a 
drum (dhak and dhole). 

Between the first and second cell doors is repre- 
sented, with a conventionalism worthy of the 
Chinese, a river with many fish and shells in it. 
A boat with three masts, a job sail, and an oar 
behind, and filled towards the stern with ten 
matkas, or earthenware jars, carries a man in it 
with long hair, who is praying. In the heaven 
behind Chandra, the moon, a figure with a crescent 
behind him, is represented as descending, fol- 
lowed by another figure. A naga-raja and his 
wife in the water seem. to draw the boat back; 
and below is represented in the water another 
figure, with a human head and long tail. On the 
left, in the direction of the boat’s course, is 
Buddha on the shore and a figure worshipping 


N 177 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


him. Rocks are conventionally painted. The upper 
part of this wall is covered with interesting scenes. 

The long panels of the ceiling in cave 2, dating 
from about A.D. 600, offer well-preserved examples 
of charming floral decorations in blue. The 
circular panels are very fine, the figures in the 
spandrils being particularly good and full of move- 
ment. The individual figures are remarkable for 
clever drawing, the artist having apparently gone 
out of his way to invent specially difficult poses ; 
a woman prostrating herself, and snake-hooded 
nagas, or water-sprites, are good examples. 
The woman standing with her left leg bent up 
is a capital piece of draughtsmanship, the feet 
being as well drawn as the hands, and the woman 
in the swing is pleasing and life-like. 

In the left hand cell are fragments of a long 
painted inscription in small letters on a dark 
green ground, and scattered over the cave on the 
paintings are seven or eight inscriptions. The 
character of the letters is sixth or seventh cen- 
tury, that is to say, probably later than the 
excavation of the cave. Generally the inscrip- 
tions refer to the names of kings, the Goddess of 
Learning, and disciples of Buddha. 

In cave 2, on the right-hand side of the wall, 
there is a famous picture of a king threatening 
one of his beautiful court dancers. 


178 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 





A FIGURE FROM A PAINTING IN CAVE 2 


Ly Ae. 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


One day Buddha was passing along the king’s 
mango groves beyond the palace when the king, 
| who was hostile to 
Buddha’s _ preaching, 
sent his most beauti- 





ful dancing girl of the 
court to tempt him 
from the path he had 
chosen. But she in- 
stead, no sooner saw 
him, than she fell 
worshipping at his 
, feet. So angry was 
r= the king when he 

“- “knew that she had 
failed to tempt Bud- 
dha, that he threat- 
ened her with death. 
In the fresco the proud 
king is seen grasping 
his sword while _ be- 
fore him in supplica- 
tion kneels the danc- 
ing girl, and around 
them, weeping, are 


THE MESSENGER IN CAVE 2 


other women. Very strangely, damp has soaked 
into the painting in such a way that it is the 
king’s head that is cut off. 


180 





THE BIRTH OF BUDDHA. 
CAVE 2. 





A KING PUNISHING ONE OF HIS COURT DANCERS. 
CAVE 2. 


From copies in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., Bombay. 


By permission of tke Intia Society. 


A LOTUS LAKE, WITH HUNTERS AND 
WILD GEESE, 


CAVE 2. 





A RICH LADY PREPARING TO VISIT BUDDHA. 
CAVE 2. 





From a copy in the possession of Kallianjee Curumsey, Esq., 
Bombay=-~ -. ~ ~ 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


Next on the right of this fresco is depicted 
the story of a messenger telling the king of some 
ereat loss which he has sustained. The messenger 
is an old man, calm and _ self-possessed, but 
showing, through his troubled eyes, hopeless 
expression and, above all, the outspread palm, 
the need for absolute abandonment of hope 
which he wishes to convey to the king. 

On the right hand wall of a dark cell by the 
side of the ante-chamber in cave 2, where no 
light can ever reach it, is a square painting of a 
rich lady, accompanied by women attendants, 
preparing to visit Buddha. Unfortunately I 
found it impossible to make a complete copy, 
as my paper was not large enough, therefore | 
had to content myself with the middle portion, 
leaving out some of the attendants and children. 
The scene of this painting was laid in the baranda 
of a house and shows the wood and stone archi- 
tecture of those days, as do also the steps leading 
up to the ground in front. This ground is deep 
Indian red, a very common colour for earth in 
Ajanta frescoes, and it is sprinkled with blossoms 
from a creeper which twines into the window. 
Children are playing with hobby-horse and tops. 
The lady must have been a good and devoted 
follower of Buddha, for above, in the right-hand 
corner, hovers a boy deba. Her fine muslins 


181 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


were so frail that they have worn away, and she 
appears almost nude. 

CavE 1.—At the extreme right end of the 
crescent-moon hill here at Ajanta is cave I, 
which was probably the last excavated of the 
series of twenty-nine caves, 

This bihara or conventual abode possesses the 
most highly ornamented and the handsomest 
exterior, and is filled with marvellous paintings. 
They are an example of the highest standard of 
Buddhist art in India—a standard so high that 
it has scarcely, if ever, been surpassed. 

The facade of this cave is beautifully designed, 
the variety combined with sufficient uniformity 
for architectural purposes produces a great rich- 
ness of effect. It is the only example here of a 
bihara decorated with sculpture. 

In front of the baranda there has been a porch 
supported by two advanced columns, of which 
only fragments of the bases and elegant capitals, 
like those in cave 2 remain; at each end, out- 
side the baranda, there is a room whose open 
front is supported by two pillars, the floors being 
raised a few steps and the elaborate entablature 
of the facade is carried round the whole front at 
the same level. The room on the east opens 
into another, nearly thirteen and a half feet 
square, and almost completely dark; that 


182 





CAVE 2. 





PRINCE GAUTAMA AND HIS WIFE YASHODHARA, WITH ATTENDANTS. 
CAVE at. 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


on the left opens into two others somewhat 
smaller. ° 

The six pillars which support the baranda are 
of three or four different orders. The outer 
pillars are merely square piers ; but they increase 
in richness from the flanks to the centre, where the 
circular shafts are elaborately ornamented and 
the capitals grandly bold; thus drawing the 
attention of the spectator towards the cave’s 
main entrance. 

The beautiful doorway was originally covered 
with thin white plaster, a great many traces of 
which still remain, and the carved figures and 
decorations round the door were also once 
coloured. It was sculptured in simple and sub- 
dued fashion, in order that the flat paintings on 
the walls might appear more harmonious and 
striking. 

Cave 1 contains some of the greatest master- 
pieces in the world. On the left of the central 
shrine is the picture of Prince Gautama and 
his wife, Yashodhara. It is most likely their 
marriage. The prince holds in his hand a blue 
lily. The bridal crowns are such as are still used 
in India to-day. 

In the upper part of the fresco Buddha is 
again painted in a love scene with Yashodhara 
on a much smaller scale. He appears to look 


183 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


down upon the futility of the world which is 
represented around him. Near by are two cranes, 
one is straining for flight, while the other settles 
contentedly upon the nest. Perhaps they sym- 
bolise the diverse feelings of Prince Gautama and 
Yashodhara. 





FIGURES FROM A WALL PAINTING IN CAVE l 


The prince is painted in a light flesh colour, 
quite golden, while Yashodhara is less notice- 
able and of a dull colour. Shadows have been 
stippled with blue. So wonderfully is the scene 
painted that, in spite of the varnish, the colour 
is still clear and vivid. Most probably the artist 
spent his life in thinking of the subject before he 
executed it boldly and with certainty. This 


184 


BACK VIEW OF A SEATED GIRL. 
CAVEwT: 


(From a carbon tracing by Miss Doroth 
Larcher.) 








A PALACE SCENE, 
CAVE I. 





y permission of the India Society. 





CEILING FRESCO. 
CAVES. 


The Finest Period of Indian Art 


fresco is an example of the highest school of 
Buddhist art in India after a development which 
covered eleven hundred years. 

Besides elaborate paintings such as these, the 
walls are covered with sketches in Indian red 
on a white ground. Nothing could be more 
fascinating, for one is enabled thereby to study 
the process of painting of the fresco from the 
first sketches to the finished masterpiece. 

At Ajanta the artists not only depicted narra- 
tive by a series of continuous paintings but also 
by means of a single masterpiece. On the left 
of the ante-chamber, in cave 1, in a very dark 
place, is an example of this, the temptation of 
Buddha by Mara, a painting over twelve feet by 
ten feet (see plate facing page 72). The picture 
has been badly varnished and damaged, and 
might fall at any moment through its own weight. 
But one can still see that it is beautiful enough to 
rank with any masterpiece that the world has 
produced. 

Under a bodhi-tree in the middle is seated 
Buddha, golden-robed, calm and self-possessed, 
his face unchanged by the temptations and horrors 
surrounding him, and his hand just touching the 
earth, to bear witness of this truth. In front is 
the beautiful Mara and, on either side of him, his 
most alluring daughters seek to tempt Buddha 


185 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


from his meditations and high purpose. All 
round horrible and fearful creatures are making 
desperate efforts to terrify him. Warriors slash 
at him with their long straight swords, threaten- 
ing him with destruction, a sea-lion gnashes its 
jaws, one loathsome devil, with starting eyes 
and great black eyebrows, stretches his mouth 
with his fingers to a hideous length and from 
the mouth of another issues a snake, hissing. 
But Buddha sits tranquil and at perfect rest ; 
as the lily that reposes on the placid waters, as 
the brightness of the flame; firm as the Mount 
Everest, so Bodhisatva was unmoved; even as 
the iron walls that surround the universe, his 
heart and mind are at perfect rest, without fear 
or anxiety, and entirely self-possessed. 


186 


CHAPTER TWELVE 
MY LAST DAYS AT AJANTA 


On the western side of the crescent-shaped hill 
the last series of caves, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 
27, 28 and 29 were excavated between the 
fourth and seventh centuries A.D. 

As these face towards the east, they are bright 
with sunlight in the morning, but gradually 
become darker as the day wears on. Thus the 
sun shines into some of them in the morning and 
into others in the afternoon. 

On the other side of the earliest group, or at 
the western tip of the moon’s crescent, are the 
monastic halls numbered 1 to 6, most of which 
belong to the seventh century, and right opposite 
to them, at the other extremity, is the fourth 
group, standing apart from the other three and 
facing the setting sun. 

This includes the biharas or colleges numbered 
20 to 25, and the magnificent chaitya house 26, 
which are the last and most elaborate of the four 
eroups ; some of them remained unfinished. 


Cave 21.—This large bihara cave 21 was cut 
considerably further along on the western side of 


187 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


the hill, just after the excavation of Number 2 
on the east. It was richly carved; but has been 
largely destroyed by the streams which fall from 
above in the rainy season; the falling rocks 
have damaged the front, and the baranda has 
been gradually obliterated by deposits of mud 
and mossy vegetation due to the water. 

At each end of the baranda is a small room 
raised three steps above the level of the floor 
with two carved pillars in front, over which is a 
sculptured frieze. 

Between caves 20 and 21 the hill recedes a 
little, and here a great waterfall descends in the 
rainy season. The caves of this group, 21, 22, 
23, 24, in the western hill, all greatly resemble 
the chapels in caves 1 and 2 of the eastern hill, 
and are arranged and finished in a similar style of 
rich ornamentation. 

The hall measures fifty-one feet square and has 
chambers with pillared fronts in the middle and 
the ends of the side aisles, leading into a cell ; 
besides which there are four other cells on each 
side of the cave. The pillars in front of the cells 
at the back are surmounted by some very good 
carvings. The roof of the hall is supported by 
twelve columns, ornamented in a style similar to 
those in cave 2. 

The entrance to the ante-chamber is unfinished 


188 


My Last Days at Ajanta 


and the shrine possesses a huge figure of Buddha 
sitting cross-legged. There has been a great deal 
of painting here ; but most of it has now gone. 

The doorway that leads into this cave 21 is 
elegant, and clearly dates from the fifth or sixth 
century A.D. 

Some pieces of the roof painting inside the hall 
are still distinct. The blues look as fresh as if 
they had just been put on, whereas they were done 
more than a thousand years ago. On the left 
wall are a few figures of Buddha and fair-skinned 
female figures. Not all the walls of this cave 
were painted, and it is very interesting to see 
how portions of ground made smooth for paint- 
ings still remain to be filled in with brush and 
paint. 

CavE 22.—Twenty-two is another small bihara 
just seventeen feet square with four unfinished 
cells. The whole cave has the appearance 
of being unfinished. There is no window; but 
a very pretty door and a narrow baranda, of 
which both pillars are broken. 

In the sanctuary is an image of Buddha with 
his feet resting on the lotus, the Buddhist emblem 
of creative power. On the right side is a paint- 
ing of seven Buddhas, each under his bodhi- 
tree and with his name painted beneath: as 
Bipasbi, Sikhi, Bissabhu... Kanaka Muni, Kas- 


189 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


yapa, Sahya Muni, Maitreza, and the missing 
name might be Kakusanda. The Buddhist 
thinks: 

** Whoever makes an image of Buddha becomes 
complete in beatitude, auspiciousness, and good 
qualities, and his splendour is brilliant through 
virtues and physical organs, and is delightsome 
to the eyes.” 

Similar inscriptions to those in cave 16 are 
found in the left end of the baranda of this cave 
22. They are of eleven lines with only a few 
words in each line, written in Sanskrit, and read- 
ing something like this :— 

‘** The meritorious gift of a mandapa by Jayata 
bkilisk ose of ..... family, a great Upasaka, 
great grandson of... grand son of... of 
Acharya Indra ... son of Dharmahaga. . 
may the merit of this be for excellent knowledge 
to all sentient beings, beginning with father and 
mother, etc.”’ 

Cave 23.—This cave, a little below the level 
of cave 22, is another bihara, and about fifty-one. 
feet square and over twelve feet high, with twelve 
pillars. 

The four massive columns in the baranda, of a 
design most suitable to rock architecture, are 
still in pretty good condition. They are very 
similar to the pillars of cave 1 in the eastern 


190 


My Last Days at Ajanta 


hill, and especially so in the capital where four 
dwarfs at the corner uphold square brackets. 

On each side of the door is a guardian male 
figure with a cobra-snake hood. Two simply- 
carved windows light the interior. At either 
end of the baranda is a chapel. 

This cave is more or less unfinished, without 
an image, even in the sanctuary. In some 
places the pillars are merely shaped, in others the 
carving is incomplete. On the whole, it appears 
that it is the carving process that has taken the 
greatest amount of time and labour. There 
exists no trace of painting in any part of the build- 
ing. 

Cave 24.—If completed, cave 24 would have 
been the largest and one of the most beautiful 
biharas in the whole series of the caves at Ajanta. 
It is very unlike the others. We do not know 
the reason, but somehow the work was stopped 
before completion. 

In the baranda there are six pillars, some of 
which are much damaged; but recently they 
have been repaired. The bracket capitals still 
hang from the top, although the pillars are 
broken away. The carved groups of flying 
figures, scroll and leaf ornaments are of most 
beautiful workmanship. The work on the doors 
and windows also is very elaborate. These orna- 


191 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


ments remind one of those in cave 19, and 
so the date is apparently no later than that. 

Inside the hall only one column has been 
finished; nor is any part of the interior com- 
pletely executed. Because of the very unfinished 
state of the interior, we are able to learn exactly 
how these caves were excavated. Long alleys 
were cut out in the rock with pickaxes and then 
the intervening walls were broken down, except 
where required for supporting columns. There 
is no trace of painting left anywhere. 

Cave 25.—To the right of the great clei 
temple, Number 6 of the last group of caves at 
Ajanta and a little higher up, is a small bihara 
temple now known as 25. 

The baranda opens into an enclosed court in 
front, from which a door leads into the next cave, 
26. The baranda has a chamber with three cells 
at the left end. 

One can enter the hall by three doors. It is 
twenty-six feet square, and has neither cell nor. 
| sanctuary. 

No paintings are found here. 

Cave 26.—The fourth mighty chaitya temple, 
which is the last finished shrine, was excavated, 
it seems, for the worship of Buddhist monks who 
lived in the biharas at the eastern end of the 
hill. It nobly terminates the western hill, and 


192 





FACADE OF CAVE 26. 


INTO THE RIGHT AISLE OF CAVE 26. 





My Last Days at Ajanta 


is faced and lit by the rising sun, and must have 
been used therefore especially for morning 
prayers. 

Probably the great Chinese pilgrim, Heuen 
Tsang, visited it in the year 640 A.p. 

The lower part of the facade is broken away by 
the fall of rocks above or possibly through an 
earthquake. But, round the arched-window it is 
still perfect, covered chiefly with figures of 
Buddha. Over the porch there was once a 
music gallery which must have extended the 
whole way across, although this is most unusual 
in the temples at Ajanta. 

This magnificent chaitya is larger than cave 19. 
In length it is nearly sixty-eight feet, in breadth 
thirty-six feet, and in height thirty-one feet from 
the centre of the nave to the roof. As in other 
caves, the stone roof represents wooden structure. 
Twenty-six pillars surround the nave, and run 
round the stupa at the back, richly and delicately 
carved in the style of the columns of cave 2. 
Images of Buddha are placed in the exquisite 
shrine and along the walls where monks, students 
and novices stood together in prayer. In the 
centre of the stupa Buddha sits on a throne with 
lions upholding the seat, and his feet resting on a 
lotus flower borne by two small figures of snake 
kings. 


oO 193 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


The aisle walls, instead of being painted, were 
covered with huge sculptures, among which is a 
beautiful figure of the dying Buddha, more than 
twenty-three feet long, reminding one of the 
fifth century image. It seems that portraying a 
subject in so huge a piece of stone was no more 
difficult to these artists than carving upon wax. 
The cot on which the figure lies, the pillow at his 
head and the water pot by his side are just such 
as can be found anywhere to-day in India. 
Above and below the dying master are hundreds of | 
natural-sized figures of sorrow-stricken monks 
erieving over the Nirvana of Buddha. 

On the left side of the cave is another huge 
bas-relief, representing the temptation of Buddha 
by Mara the wicked one, such as is painted in 
cave l. 

Here, in this last group of caves, including 
Number 26, sculpture took a more prominent place 
than painting, for it always happens that painting 
appears in the world earlier than sculpture. 

A very great many inscriptions are found in 
this temple. On the front is a string of praises of 
the Sugatas or Buddhists and of Bhabiraja, the 
minister of Asmakaraza, and of his son Debaraja, 
who constructed the temple. Then, over the 
right side door are twenty-seven lines in Sanskrit 
verse, and with the exception of flaws in the first 


194 





INTERIOR OF CAVE 26. 





PIELAKSSO 





THE LEFT OF CAVE 26. 


My Last Days at Ajanta 


and in some of the lower lines, it is fairly legible. 
The alphabet is similar to that used in cave 17. 
Some of the inscription reads like this :—- 





THE TEMPTATION OF BUDDHA 


“This temple is established for the welfare 
(of people in a hill ?), tuneful with the notes of 
various birds, and whose caves are filled with the 
sounds of cow-tails (chauris) .... and which 
is inhabited by the Yogisvaras . . . . The same 
agerieved Acharya having taken over the anxiety 
of the people regarding the Sugata.... ” 


195 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


And one on a plinth under the feet of a tall 
standing Buddha on the left of the facade reads :— 

‘The Sakya Vikshu, the Bhadanta Guna- 
kara’s meritorious gift, may, whatever merit is in 
this be for the attainment of supreme knowledge 
by all sentient beings, mother and father being 
first.”’ 

And again: “ The smallest virtue resulting in 
good cannot be accomplished. while engaged in 
worldly affairs. The result of the actions of 
sages who are exalted by virtue tends to the 
enjoyment of happiness by the people.” 

This chaitya-temple was one of the last exe- 
cuted caves at Ajanta, and elaborate work was 
expended upon it in order to give weight and 
grandeur, as in the last chord struck on a musical 
instrument. 

Left of 26,is the last accessible bihara, Number 
27. The whole front is broken away, with huge 
rocks on the ground and blocking the entrance, 
and so making a comfortable home for tigers. 

It measures about forty-four feet wide and 
thirty-one feet long ; but has never been finished. 
Inside are a few cells. It has no pillars. Next 
to this, high up in the scarp of the rock, a fifth 
chaitya was begun, but never finished. It is now 
known as cave 28, and lies high up in the rock 
between caves 21 and 22. 


196 


My Last Days at Ajanta 


Number 29 is the last in the western hill, just 
as Number 1 is the last in the eastern hill. It is 
inaccessible; only part of the baranda of it was 
ever completed. 

The ground for the wall painting was prepared 
by mixing clay, cow dung, husks and little stones 
together and laid on the rough surface of the rock, 
sometimes an inch or more thick. Over this 
was a white coating made of shell lime. The lime 
is soaked in water for twenty-two days, until it 
loses its stiffness and becomes a clay. It is laid 
on with about the consistency of an egg shell. 

I had made over twelve large copies from the 
wall paintings, and I wished I could stay there 
much longer, but things were becoming less 
favourable every day, and I felt, even if I could 
stay fifty years in the caves of Ajanta, I would 
not be able to accomplish all that I wished 
to do. 

It was becoming impossible to stay at Ajanta, 
as provisions and money had run short. Buddhu 
Miya was still with me, faithful unto the end, and 
I had found him a good companion. Singing 
morning praises to Allah, he would suddenly 
break off to shout: ‘‘ Khana, khana, breakfast 
is ready,” and then, while we ate he would listen 
with an appearance of interest while I talked of 
my work, although he did not understand its 


197 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


importance. And then he used to say : “‘ Sahib, 
you are the sun of the hills.”’ 

When he knew the exact day in early January, 
1920, on which I intended to quit the caves he 
informed his family, and they all, wife, sons and 
daughters, saw me off to Pahur. I felt rather 
sad as I saw the bullock cart with my copies 
slowly preceding me; through the gorge the 
mountains rose beside my track. Monkeys 
chattered in the trees and peacocks screamed just 
as they did when I arrived and always will do. 
Banjari women moved gracefully along the road, 
singing; and I set out for the caves of Bagh. 


198 








S, BY THE RIVER BAGHMATT. 


OD 
Iw) 


IN FRONT OF BAGH CAV 





N THE BAGH HILLS. 


AIN CAVE I 


M 


THE 


CHAPTER THIRTEEN 
MY PILGRIMAGE TO BAGH 


In all the Indian Empire there are only three 
places where the wonderful Buddhist wall paint- 
ings are still in existence; first the well-known 
eaves of Ajanta in the Dekkan, about three hun- 
dred miles east of Bombay; secondly, the Bagh 
caves in Gwalior State, in the district of Malwa, 
over two hundred and fifty miles north of Ajanta; 
and thirdly, the caves of Sigiria and at a place 
called Tamankaduwa in the Island of Ceylon. 

The first and last of these caves are well 
known, by repute at least, to the world, and Bagh, 
though less known, contains specimens of sculp- 
ture and painting which, although fewer, are as 
interesting as those at Ajanta. Enough of these 
ancient masterpieces are left to inspire a great 
Indian Academy of Art. 

Recently we have heard that another group of 
Buddhist caves containing frescoes has been 
discovered by a shepherd boy, about thirty miles 
away from the French Pondicherry, in South 
India, but unfortunately we do not yet know all 
the details of its discovery. 

Having spent many months copying the fres- 


199 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


coes on the Ajanta walls, in the middle of January, 
1920, I set out for the caves of Bagh with a knap- 
sack on my back and a roll of paper in my hand, 
to make drawings, but for only a few days. 

This time I went quite alone, not taking even a 
servant with me. From the junction of Bhusaval, 
where I took in a last small stock of tinned tongue 
and beans, the train cut through rocks and mile 
after mile of wooded hills and, having crossed one 
of the longest bridges in the world, over the great 
River Narmada, it brought me in the afternoon 
to Mhow, the nearest railway station to the caves, | 
which are, however, over one hundred miles distant. 

The small town of Mhow is on the way to 
Indore. It contains the British cantonment and 
boasts a motor bus service of one bus only, which 
runs once every day to a big village called Dhar, 
about thirty-four miles distant, returning at night. 
This bus is made to carry twenty people, who 
sit in rows facing the engine, as in a charabanc. 
I had reason to regret that there was no upper 
deck for passengers. A much greater number 
than the bus could carry had gathered together, 
squatting beside their boxes and bundles, utensils 
and hookahs, five or six hours before the bus was 
due to start. There was a fight to get on the bus, 
and nothing but my European suit of clothes 
helped me to win the seat next to the driver. 


200 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


_ It was a glowing sunny afternoon in January. 
The vehicle did not travel fast like a London bus, 
but faster than a bullock cart or a tanga, and this 
pace was very delightful to us as we sat looking 
around idly at the dark green debadar trees, the 
small clay huts and the deep blue sky towards the 
east. | 

Some of the passengers inside chatted to one 
another all the time, but I could not understand 
anything they said, their tongue being absolutely 
strange to me, while others sat chewing little 
rods of sugar-cane and smoking their hookahs, 
lost in thought. 

The bus stopped about eleven miles from Mhow, 
near a clean-looking white dak bungalow and the 
villagers rushed out to see this novel conveyance. 
We got down, and as we lingered maidens in gay 
dress with red, blue, green and yellow skirts, 
drew their evening water in pitchers from the well 
and poured some of it, cold and clear, into the 
screwed-up palms of our hands. Then the front 
of the bus was opened and buckets of water 
splashed into the radiator, which had grown too 
hot. Men, women and children watched with 
eager and friendly curiosity. 

Refreshed, we climbed into our seats and pro- 
ceeded on the journey, with eyes directed towards 
the setting sun, which in colour was a blend of 


201 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


red and rich gold, like the deep-hued yolk ofa 
brown egg. 

All that glorious and mysterious evening the 
bus carried me farther and farther into the un- 
known land. Movement, colour and sound were 
exquisitely mingled. To the west lay the faint 
blue Bindhya ranges, outlined against a soft gold 
sky. Dust ascended slowly into the still air as 
the cattle passed with a tinkling of bells and the 
notes of a reed-pipe which the herd-boy played as 
he sat huddled on the ox’s back. One heard also 
the sudden scampering of the animals to the road- 
side. The birds clamoured for the cosiest position 
on the branch for the night’s rest. Temple bells 
rang out in the distance and women blew on their 
econch-shells to announce the approach of night. 
Kiverything fell quiet and sombre as the deep blue 
night stole on. — 

Now appeared clusters of houses with a red- 
flamed light here and there at windows and doors, 
and a passenger or two left the bus as he reached 
the neighbourhood of his dwelling. The sky 
above grew heavy with stars; down below the 
trees full of glow-worms exhibited their rounded 
forms along the roadside in lovely illumination. 

A peculiar burning smell roused me to look 
across the fields, and I saw flames jumping up and 
down at irregular distances, and every time they 


202 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


sprang up they revealed to us in yet a fresh spot 
a group of villagers taking their ease around a 
smouldering heap of rubbish, the ashes from which 
would fertilise the field. At about eight or nine 
o'clock, away on the right, I saw the brick palace 
of the Raja of Dhar. Gorgeous guards with guns 
and spears were pacing around its walls and gates. 

We drove through the quiet streets shaded by 
huge grandfatherly banyan and ashath trees with 
knotted trunks and luxuriant foliage, where birds, 
monkeys and tiny creatures love to sleep and 
play. Then a few people began to pass us on the 
road, and, at length, we reached the dak bun- 
galow at Dhar, white-washed as all Indian dak 
bungalows are. 

I descended, and entering a room, called for a 
servant and asked for a hot bath and a good meal. 
But, it seemed to me presently, as I began to 
prepare for a bath, that Bengali babus were 
everywhere, for I now heard a discussion about 
me in Bengali language. A little later I came 
upon three or four young gentlemen vigorously 
feasting on chicken curry and chops, which they, 
being Hindus, would not be allowed at home. 
Their presence mystified me until I learnt that as 
Bengalis are in the habit of working for other 
people, they were doing such things as teaching 
the Dhar Raja’s daughters, managing his estates 


203 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and looking after the Post Office Department. 
They were interested to hear of my journey to 
Bagh, and one of them grew intensely excited 
and wanted to come with me, because near to 
Bagh is a great lake in which for a long time he 
had cherished the ambition to fish. So now he 
would get a chance to catch fine fish while I 
worked in the caves. But in the end he was 
afraid to come, and all the babus tried to dissuade 
me also from the dangerous and uncertain 
expedition. 

I did not know, but as soon as the bus arrived 
at Dhar the mail tanga left, which goes towards 
Bagh, and to have gone cheaply and in company 
I should have had to have waited till the next 
night for the mail-tanga. But I was anxious to 
be off that same night, so it was necessary for 
me to procure a tanga; a jatra tamasha, however, 
was taking place in the village. ‘° Tamasha ” 
means “ great fun,’’ and “‘ jatra,’’ open-air music, 
singing, dancing, drinking and smoking. To 
this entertainment all the men of the town had 
gone, and from it nothing could draw them away. 
But fortunately the Bengali gentleman, who was 
the Dhar Raja’s Naeb-bahadur or manager, told 
me of some men who would go with me to find 
some conveyance, and particularly one tanga 
‘man who was well known as the last resource in 


emergency. 
204 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


We knocked at a little mud hut till a woman 
woke up from her sleep, and jangling her bangles 
came to the door and told us that her husband was 
elsewhere, and when we got there we found he had 
gone; however, we tracked him to the Jatra per- 
formance where he sat quietly smoking and lis- 
tening in the middle of a great torch-lit crowd. 

Many people here do not know about Bagh, 
but they have heard of a small town, Kukshi, 
farther on; so this man, when we mentioned the 
name of the Naeb-bahadur, arranged to take me 
about thirty miles to a village along the road to 
Kukshi for twenty rupees or so. 

Within an hour he came to the bungalow and I 
got into the tanga, softened at the bottom with a 
pile of straw and dry hay, which the driver took 
for the horses. We started off on the long road 
between big trees to Bagh. After passing the 
village of Dhar the land lay bare, except for a few 
small villages here and there, and stretched away 
indefinitely beneath the immense crowded sky, 
that throbbed with its load of orderly stars. 
Such country and space enriches the mind and 
broadens the soul. There was no sound nor move- 
ment, nothing save a jackal’s occasional howl and 
the swift cautious run of a fat-tailed fox across 
the road. My tanga man told me that a jackal 
or fox passing on the left side of a man while 


205 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


journeying brought him good luck. This super- 
stition encouraged me, and wrapping the blanket 
closer round me, for the cold was of the kind 
that penetrates to one’s bones, I fell asleep 
fearlessly. 

Suddenly I woke up in the middle of a river to 
find the horses sturdily dragging us across while 
the tanga bumped upon the rocky river-bed. 
After this I dozed until there came a shout of 
** Hai, hai, hai! What are you doing? Where 
are you going ?”? and my man shouted back: 
‘“* Hai, what’s the matter with you? . We’re 
going to Bagh, Bagh, Kukshi.” : 

“You can’t go there now, it’s too late; you 
must wait till morning.” I guessed what they 
were saying, so I grumbled and shouted. Then 
two men looked into the tanga and I immediately 
flashed out a torch-light on their faces, which 
dazzled them, but when they saw my topi and 
thick overcoat, they seemed astonished and 
frightened, and slunk back into a thatched hut 
at the wayside. They may have been simply 
chowkidars or customs’ men, but I rather thought 
they had seen the mail-tanga pass and were 
minded to rob some stray traveller at that hour 
of night. So we quickly whipped up the horses 
and I shouted “jaldi chalo, jaldi chalo,” [go 
quickly] and escaped from that danger. 


206 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


At dawn the tanga-man, the two horses and I 
were still trying to cast aside our sleepy weariness, 
when we came upon a large river-side village, 
which roused us into morning’s natural activity. 
The people were washing right down at the 
water’s edge and taking their time over the 
scrupulous cleaning of their faces, and some were 
bathing. A few men sitting solitary on a boulder 
a little way out in the river were steadily brushing 
their teeth with bits of twig which they broke 
off nim trees overhanging the banks, for the 
bitter nim juice is good for teeth. Women, 
wading up to their knees, and carefully drawing 
up their skirts, dispersed the floating dirt and 
then dipped in their pitchers. In the village 
were a number of small shops and there the people 
who had travelled by the tanga which accom- 
pannied the mail were sitting idly, because their 
tanga-man had died that night and they could go 
no farther until the next day. But I wanted to 
get to Bagh and so, after much enquiry, found a 
Mahomedan so strong and big as quite to frighten 
me, who was willing to drive me if I paid him 
well. 

Under the trees, as we went, were vermillion 
painted stone gods and goddesses, put there by 
the Hindu people of this part. They made the 
Mahomedan very angry and, thinking me a 


207 


My Pulgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Christian, he cursed the Hindus all the way. He 
drove me swiftly to a village ten miles off, 
changed horses with a Hindu, and calling him 
‘* sreat badmash ”’ drove me on again. 

Now the land became mountainous and wooded, 
the haunts of Koles and Bhils, a wild and fierce 
tribe, the aborigines. I had glimpses of rough 
tree-branch huts and often caught sigh of low 
carts with small, solid wheels, drawn by one 
bullock and laden with wood. Once I was 
astonished to see how the golden-coloured man 
and woman walking beside a cart resembled the 
figures I had seen in the Ajanta frescoes of the 
earlier period ; the woman had a sharp nose and 
long, fine arched eyebrows over lovely dark eyes, 
and the man’s curly hair was encircled by a band 
of palm-tree leaves and flowers. 

The road went winding up and up, and then 
fell steeply ; rise followed on fall indefinitely. 
At length, as cautiously we came down a slope 
and reached level ground, the tanga jerked and 
the horses began to go backwards, for there 
across the road, with the appearance as I thought 
at first of a crack in the parched ground, was a 
great brown, double-faced snake, which had 
stopped to listen in the middle of its tacking 
across the road. I wanted to kill it; but the 
Mussulman driver would not let me; he clapped 


208 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


his hands, and shouted until the snake glided 
slowly out of the way to the jungle. 

Down in the valley to which we now came ran 
a river, overhung by trees whose boughs met 
together. We got down and let loose the horses 
to drink, the tanga-driver ate his fried rice and 
corn, and I opened for myself a tin of tongue to 
eat with my last piece of loaf. After this short 
halt we went on again, and presently came up 
with a man walking with a little baggage and 
with a gun in his hand. I grew interested at 
seeing a gun, and when I heard he wanted to reach 
Kukshi I invited him into the tanga. It was 
nice to have a companion, especially one who told 
stories. He said he always carried a gun to make 
Bhils afraid of throwing arrows. He told me that 
a few years ago one Bhil was so outrageous in his 
daring that the Government offered a large sum 
of money to whoever would capture him, dead or 
alive. The reward tempted no one, but at 
length, quite by chance, an officer caught him by 
the hand, and as he was wrenching himself free 
cut off his hand, which he brought to the gover- 
nors, and received the reward, but never got the 
Bhil. 

The Bhils, he told me, are extremely dexterous 
with their bows, for, seeing a traveller coming 
along the road, they will let fly an arrow and cut 


P 209 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


off a nose or ear without the man realising from 
whence the arrow comes. He, terrified, naturally 
enough, at this assault from an unseen enemy, 
is anxious only to fly, and drops all the baggage 
he may be carrying. 

My companion entertained me with many such 
stories all the way to the next village, which we 
reached in the afternoon. 

In this village—the name of which I forget, 
but I think it was Sardapur—the very poor 
peasants live in a row of ten or twelve mud houses, 
together with their pigs, calves, goats and don- 
keys. Some of the huts were also used as shops 
for selling food, pottery and lacquer bangles. 
There was also a smithy with two tanga-horses 
waiting to be shod, and a tanner who sold skins 
for drums, bellows and water-bags. Looking at 
this village, one could imagine just how it must 
have been thousands of years ago. 

I had the good fortune to find the mail-tanga 
kept back by its horses wanting new shoes. Two 
passengers were already seated ; I made the third, 
and we travelled on to Bagh. 

The afternoon soon passed, the sun was setting 
and the jagged scenery giving way to gentle 
ereen and damp forest land, when the tanga- 
man first began to mutter: “ Bagh is not very 
far now, not very far,” and at last we arrived in 


210 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


the village surrounded by a thick forest. Bagh is 
about eight hundred and fifty feet above sea 
level, situated in a pleasant valley extending 
north and south three miles by an average 
breadth of one mile, and at the foot of a low 
range of hills of the southern slope of the Bindha 
ranges, about a hundred feet high, which form 
the western boundary. So fertile is it with 
banyan trees, papaya, mango, bamboo, sal and 
banana, that I was reminded of a Bengal village, 
and it was as startling to me to find this green 
valley plumped down in the middle of such arid 
country as it is to a traveller in the desert to come 
upon an oasis. 

At length we drove up to a brick and stone 
slab lime-white washed, which stood up among 
rows of bamboo bushes. It was distinguished 
by the symbolical sign of the Hindu Gwalior 
State, two fine black cobras enclosing a crude 
outline drawing of sun with eyes, nose and mouth 
painted upon it, and below— 


Bacau Insrection BuNGALOW 


was written in English, Hindustani and Mussul- 
mani (Urdu) languages. Perhaps I can_ best 
convey its appearance by saying that it resembled 
most closely a typical English war memorial tablet. 

So, after a long non-stop journey from Mhow, 


211 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


through the town of Dhar and over the Tanda 
Ghats, having spent the night in a tanga, crossing 
fields, forests and a great mountainous tract, 
not without perils from tigers, snakes and foot- 
pads, I had finally arrived at Bagh Inspection 
Bungalow. 

I entered and ordered a meal and a bath, and 
while the Mussulman cook and his wife were 
cooking the one and heating the other, and 
although night was already coming on, I took 
the bungalow gardener and started off in the 
direction of the caves, so excited was I to catch 
just a glimpse of them before going to bed in 
peace. 

We hastened along the road to the caves; two 
or three times I was carried on the broad back 
of my servant across the Baghmati river. But 
we did not get as far as the cave, for night was 
upon us, and my gardener-guide pointed out a 
low range of hills and said: “‘ There are the Panch 
Pandu; but, Sab, we must return, for snakes and 
tigers are already out.” The caves are known 
to people in general as the Bagh caves on account 
of the closeness to the village Bagh, but locally 
they are called Panch Pandu. 

When I had returned to the bungalow I ate 
lentils and chapati and went early to bed, think- 
ing how glad I was to have at last reached Bagh ; 


212 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


and how different the people of the Narmada 
Valley through which I had passed, including 
Bagh itself, where food, servants and friendli- 
ness could be found, at least to a certain extent, 
were from those of Ajanta, in the terrible Dekkan 
land near the Tapti Valley, who would do nothing 
at all for a traveller, not even give him food. 

The next morning I woke up early and wanted 
to get hold of some men to go with me at once to 
the caves; but the chowkidar told me that the 
coolies who are usually willing to do any work 
olfered do not come out of their houses and look 
for work until rather later on in the morning, and 
so, to pass away the time, I had a general look 
round. The garden of this bungalow was full 
of karabi flowers, and gandha-raj, bela, jasmin, 
which are the flowers that so profusely bloom in 
Bengal, as well as fruits, mangoes, bales, papayas, 
atas and rich pomegranates. 

On the right of the main road, on the top of the 
hill, was a ruined red stone and brick fort, which 
was built by a Hindu king many years ago to safe- 
guard the village from invaders rushing in from 
the north or west. The ascent to it is by a small, 
very steep footpath. The whole village now 
contains from about four to five hundred houses, 
within the compass of a low mud and stone wall 
which runs round the northern and part of the 


213 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


western edges of this hill; but it is said that in 
the olden days Bagh possessed between two and 
three thousand houses. Lying, as it does, on 
the great broad ancient road which runs down 
from the north and passes southwards through 
Ajanta on to the Dekkan and thence downwards, 
it was once, no doubt, of great importance, 
especially between the fourth and seventh cen- 
turies A.D., when Buddhism in this part of India 
was at the height of its glory. Several local 
scholars of this faith: Dharma-Rakhya, Guna- 
Vadra, Paramartha, and Atigupta, of Ujjain 
between the fifth and seventh centuries a.pD. all 
visited China to exchange ideas and preach and 
study the Buddhist law, while the great Buddhist 
Chinese scholars and pilgrims, Heuen Tsang, 
Fa-heen and Hsuan Tai came to visit Central 
and Western India about the same time. 

In the sixth, seventh and eighth centuries, 
however, Hun kings swarmed across Asia into 
Western India, fighting and destroying wherever 
they went. Mussulman invasions were also con- 
tinual; so that by the tenth century Buddhism 
was driven out and utterly crushed and, con- 
sequently, the Bagh caves became deserted. 
Hindu Brahminism now spread over the land, 
and since that date the people of Bagh and the 
villages around have nearly all been Hindus. 


214 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


About five hundred years ago the ambition 
of chiefs of the villages around Bagh to be lords 
of the land resulted in a quarter of a century of 
anarchy, in which Bagh was devastated and 
desolated. Then it arose once more to some 
importance through becoming more than two 
hundred years ago the occasional residence of 
Jhasu Bomeah, a celebrated freebooter, who 
possessed himself of the Kotra district, and who 
built as places of security for his followers and 
plunder the forts of Soosaree, Bagh and Kukshi. 

Jhasu Bomeah became by his bold depre- 
dations, which extended not only into Malwa but 
even to the Dekkan and Guzrat, so formidable as 
to excite the serious attention of the Maratta 
princes. He was besieged by a large army during 
forty days in the fort of Kukshi, at the end of 
which period, finding the place no longer tenable, 
he made his escape to Bagh. To this last place 
he was pursued and again besieged; but, not 
being able to make a stand, he retired to the 
mountains, from which period nothing further 
of himis known. His country was divided among 
the conquerors, Bagh with its dependent villages 
falling to the share of the Maharaja of Sindhia 
‘in the eighteenth century, who used to manage 
it by deputy, and later it became included in the 
Gwalior State, to which it still belongs. 


215 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


These caves became known to the officials some 
hundred years ago as an especial abode of tigers, 
but to-day, strange to say, Bagh, which means 
* tiger,” is more famed to the natives for its 
pottery and lacquer bangles than for the fact 
that it is close to the great Buddhist temples. 

By about nine o’clock the same morning I had 
collected two men from the village and we started 
for the caves. Between the village and the caves 
—a distance of about four miles—is an open 
jungle with level fields of dwarf cypress and date 
bushes, and babla looking like mimosa, but full of 
thorns. Nim and jambu trees grow here and there 
along the banks of the boulder-strewn Baghmati 
river. The river wriggles snake-like through the 
fields, and we had to cross it three or four times 
on our way to the caves. A few villages were 
dotted about, consisting sometimes of only three 
or four huts, which are inhabited by the Koles, 
Bhils and other hairy, half-clothed itinerant 
tribes who live by shooting game with their primi- 
tive bows and arrows and by cutting wood, which 
they sell in the market. 

Before the advent of the Rajputs, the Bhils were 
the ruling race in Western India; but about 
three or four hundred years ago they became a 
despised, outcast, fierce people, who wandered 
apart from the rest of mankind. 


216 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


To-day they are more peaceable and show less 
suspicion of civilisation, but they are still like 
delightful children who do not want to work, but 
prefer rather to adorn their arms and legs with 
bangles and dance with their whole might to the 
drum and the cymbal. 

My brother artist, Suren Kar, told me the 
story of the following incident that occurred 
while he, among other artists, was staying at 
Bagh. At the approach of the spring festival, 
the head man of the village gave a free-drink 
dancing party to the villagers. They became 
wildly excited and danced round the fire far into 
the moonlit night, waving their spears and 
swords in the dark night sky, and playing drums 
all the time. Suddenly there was a cry and much 
shouting, saying: ‘‘ Hai, Hai! Patle Baba’s head 
lies on the ground, Patle Baba’s head lies on the 
eround.’”’ These people were so wild as not to 
mind chopping off the head of a neighbour when 
inflamed by the dance. 

To save themselves from starvation, however, 
these Bhils will sometimes condescend to doing 
a little work, and that must have been why I was 
able to coax four men who, with the other two, 
marched single file across the fields, carrying my 
ladders, water jug, oil lamp, drinking water and 
drawing materials. 


217 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


We presently saw far away before us a deep 
hole in the hillside through the dark green trees 
in front, and my companion said: “ That is 
Gonsaiji’s Gumpha,” which means the _ holy 
father’s cave house. Then we came right up to 
the foot of the hill, and there, exactly in front of 
the caves, was running the same little Baghmati 
river in which the pilgrims used to wash their 
hands and feet before visiting the sacred monas- 
teries. Cypress bushes had grown thick here, 
and many kinds of trees, thick-leaved and 
shadowy, were stretching their roots luxuriously 
in the clear, cool, lovely water. 

No water-tank is found in the rock at Bagh as 
at Ajanta and the other excavated caves of 
India, and this at first seems a little strange; but 
since this river, just below the caves, flows for 
about nine months of the year, evidently it 
served as a water-supply for the monks who, for 
the remaining three months, could get almost 
perfectly-filtered water by digging in the sandy 
banks. 

Immediately after crossing this river we came 
to a level plain, and then we climbed a flight of 
seventy rudely-formed stone steps which led to 
the sombre mouth of the caves, which we had 
seen from far away in the field. As I approached 
I saw a wonderful sight: flocks of wild doves, 


218 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


green parrots and hundreds of monkeys and 
squirrels were collected round a slender nude 
figure, with long unkempt hair and body rough 
and grey with ash-dust, sitting cross-legged and 
immobile, a yogi, or holy man, known as Gonsai 
Babaji. His disciple had left his food of milk, 
sweetmeats and fruits in front of him, and the 
birds and monkeys were eating it, but as soon 
as they saw me the monkeys each picked up two 
crammed handfuls of the food, and swung them- 
selves into the great nim trees and jumped from 
top to top, chattering, howling and whooping, 
and the birds reluctantly flew away. 

The poor simple villagers gave this holy father 
sweetmeats and money because they looked upon 
him as the great protector of the villagers of Bagh. 
He remained day and night outside the entrance, 
but his predecessors had penetrated inside this 
cave and had ruined the paintings by smoke and 
fire. 

The hill in which the caves have been excavated 
runs parallel to the little river Baghmati. The 
lower half is sloping, but steep; the upper, per- 
pendicular, composed entirely of horizontal strata 
of sandstone and claystone alternating with each 
. other; it is a peculiar rock, quite distinct from 
the volcanic rocks in the neighbourhood and was 
used for smelting iron until foreign competition 


219 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


killed the industry. The sandstone contains a 
large amount of clay, and is coloured with oxide 
of iron, varying from deep red to perfect white. 
With its colour vary also its hardness and the 
fineness of its grain, the dark red being fine- 
grained and tolerably hard, the white coarse- 
grained and so soft as to be able to be rubbed to 
pieces between the fingers, and containing many 
organic impressions. Different shades of the red 
sandstone occupy the upper or perpendicular part 
of the hill with thin layers of the claystone inter- 
posed. 

The caves occupy the centre of the hill, com- 
mencing at its perpendicular part. It is through 
the lower half of the caves, for about six feet 
from their floor, that the stratum of white sand- 
stone runs; this, however, reposes on the old 
red sandstone. The upper part of the caves is 
mostly formed of the light red sandstone. 

Superimposed on this sandstone is a deep stra- 
tum of white clay or claystone, in places fully 
twenty feet in depth, and it is evidently owing to 
the absorbent and retentive power of this clay 
and the weight as well as the destructive effect 
of the water in it, that such immense flaky masses 
of the roofs and barandas have been loosened 
and fallen. This does not seem to have acted 
on all the caves alike, both on account of the 


220 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


unequal depth of the clay and the texture of the 
underlying stone, which seems to be most com- 
pact in the first cave, hence its preservation, 
but, while the most southerly has suffered most, 
the damage and injury the caves have sustained 
is to be attributed to variations in the strata of 
stone and clay. 

The hill runs north-east and south-west, and 
the caves face north-west, so that never at any 
time do they receive the sunlight full on them, 
but in the evening they are lit quite considerably 
by the rays of the setting sun. This is the case 
with almost all Indian cave excavations. 

The caves are fully exposed, unfortunately, 
to weather of all kinds, as in many caves the 
barandas have broken away altogether; the 
jungle has grown thickly in front, and boulders 
and debris have collected to a considerable height; 
while, from very ancient times the caves have 
been frequented by tigers, hyenas, jackals, snakes, 
monkeys, wild boars, cobra and pythons, which 
abound and wander freely in and out of the 
caves, and therefore the villagers in the neigh- 
bourhood are terrified to visit them; but in 
spite of all these perils, just as at Ajanta, a 
fair is held once a year in the winter, down by 
the river Baghmati. 

There are about nine caves in all, each one a 


221 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


bihara, for, curiously, there are no chaityas in 
this series. The excavation of these temples 
took place in about the fifth century a.p. Many 
of them are now fallen in altogether and are in a 
ruined condition. 

These caves were not all excavated at one 
time, but no doubt they were all done between 
the fourth and sixth centuries. About one 
thousand feet to the left of the steps leading 
to cave 2 is a small bihara cave, most likely 
excavated after all the others in the series; 
but as it is at one end, we shall call it Number 1. 

In front is a little baranda, the pillars of 
which have fallen away. There is a single 
entrance and no windows. The portico which 
once stood in front of the door is now utterly 
destroyed. The interior is an absolutely plain 
room, twenty-three feet wide, having no cells, 
sanctuary, statue or painting, and it was 
therefore most probably a dwelling house for 
the head priest of its neighbour, cave 2. The 
four pillars are much worn away and the roof 
they support might at any moment collapse. 

On the way to the second cave on the right are 
sions of excavation in the face of the rock; but 
they are so blocked up with debris that it is very 
difficult to know whether they denote the actual 
remains of a cave or only the commencement. 


222 





PEASANT WOMEN CARRYING MEALS TO THEIR MEN IN THE FIELDS. 





THE JUNGLE VILLAGE NEAR BAGH, WHERE I SLEPT. 





ENTRANCE TO CAVE 2, BAGH. 





CAVE 5, BAGH. 
SHOWING HOW THE WHOLE OF BARANDA HAS FALLEN IN FRONT OF THE ENTRANCE. 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


Then we come to cave 2, excavated about 
the fifth century A.D., which is usually the first 
entered, being led up to by the flight of ancient 
steps. This is the ‘“ Gonshai Gumpha”’ which 
can be seen from afar off in the fields as a dark 
hole in the red sandstone hill piercing the thick 
EPOCH. < - 

Outside the cave is a small landing place 
overhung by the hill, which is here at its greatest 
height of one hundred and fifty feet. Hvidently 
this once formed a baranda supported by columns, 
but now it is an utter ruin, heaped into great 
mounds nearly as high as the cave, leaving a 
pathway up to the door, and planed and plas- 
tered with cow-dung, so as to form a high seat 
for the Sadhu. The plastered front of the cave 
and fragments among the ruin give evidence 
that the baranda was once decorated. A por- 
tico originally protected the entrance; but 
that too has fallen in, scarcely a trace remaining. 

At each end of the baranda is a small recess ; 
that on the right contains a very modern figure 
of Ganesh, the Hindu God of Luck, usurping 
the place of the earliest figure of Buddha, which 
is shown to have been there originally by the 
Buddhistical emblems of flying figures holding 
garlands, such as are often found on the walls 
at Ajanta. 


223 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


On entering, one is startled to see lighting 
the approach, an old city street lamp stuck up 
on a wobbley post. Behind, on the wall, the 
Sadhu has scratched in vermilion the marks of 
large trisulas, the signs of a Siba worshipper. 

Inside the cave you are impressed with gloomy 
erandeur; it is not, however, till you have been 
a few seconds in it that you perceive its great 
extent. The open area of this cave is a regular 
square, measuring eighty-four feet each side. 
Its height is fourteen feet and a half. The 
roof is supported by four ranges of massive 
columns; the two centre ones being round; 
those at the right and left are square at the 
base, but at the heights of five and eight feet 
formed into hexagons and dodecagons. 

The paintings on the walls and ceilings of 
the cave have been terribly injured by the 
smoke and soot from the fires of the holy fathers, 
who have lived there for centuries. But, in 
spite of this, were an artist to take sufficient 
trouble, he would be sure to discover some 
wonderful paintings unknown to the _ world, 
for many traces are still to be found on the 
dark walls and ceilings. Those on the roof, 
are chiefly beautiful decorative diagonal designs 
In square compartments of about one foot, 
containing elephants, buffaloes, birds, fruit and 


224 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


flowers. The grotesque dwarf figures, male and 
female, of tribute bearers, resemble the sculp- 
tured figures in old English churches, especially 
I noticed those in Wells Cathedral, in Somer- 
setshire. 

Passing between the centre range of columns 
to the end of the cave, you enter an oblong 
recess or baranda, measuring twenty feet by 
twelve, open in front towards the cave and 
supported by two hexagonal columns. In 
niches, on the remaining three sides of this 
apartment, figures are carved in bold relief— 
Buddha and his disciples. 

From this recess, you pass at the back through 
a small doorway and enter an inner apartment 
measuring twenty feet by seventeen, in the 
centre of which, cut out of the solid rock, is 
what the natives term ‘ The Churn,” or stupa, 
being a regular hexagon of three feet three 
inches each side, surmounted by a plain dome 
reaching nearly to the roof, to which it is joined 
by a small square ornament. 

Around the large cave are twenty small cells 
which local guides call the “ dokans,” or shops, 
each measuring nine feet in depth, with a separate 
entrance towards the cave. There are seven of 
these to the right, six to the left, and four at the 
end of the cave, two on each side of the recess. 


Q say Ag 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Entering the second to the left of these small 
apartments, you perceive at about four feet 
from the ground in the opposite wall a small 
oblong excavation of about three feet by two; 
creeping through which, you enter a small 
apartment of about twelve feet square, in the 
opposite wall of which is a similar excavation 
leading to a like apartment; and so on succes- 
sively for five small rooms, gradually ascending 
the hill, the floor of each inner apartment being 
on a level with the lower part of the entrance 
from the outer one. 

These secret apartments appear originally 
either to have led or to have been intended to 
lead to the top of the hill; and to have been 
the private entrance. At present, however, they 
receive neither light nor air, excepting from 
the first entrance. 

This cave is especially interesting as com- 
bining both the bihara and chaitya; for here, 
beside the cells, is found the object of worship, 
the stupa. 

Leaving the second cave and proceeding south- 
ward twenty or thirty paces, by a narrow ledge 
round a projecting part of the hill, one reaches 
a third cave. Between these two caves chisel 
marks are visible on the wall, as though excava- 
tions had been begun only and not fully carried 


226 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


out. In front of this third cave is a large nim 
tree, whose spreading branches screen the en- 
trance. 

The cave is apparently an appendage to the 
preceding bihara, and by reason of the high 
finish that has been given to the ceilings of the 
cells and frontage of the cave, it is most probable 
that it was excavated for the accommodation of 
some particular or higher class of the priest- 
hood. 

The front of the cave has not had a baranda:; 
but the fagade, the lower part of which has broken 
away, is smoothly chiselled, not plastered, and 
carved with tigers’ heads between the usual stupa 
emblems of Buddhist caves. __ 

The cave itself is sixty feet by forty, and fifteen 
feet high; it is quite plain in design, and has 
been roughly plastered for painting. One first 
enters a hall twenty-eight feet square with six 
supporting octagonal pillars. Four cells lead 
from the right side. On the left, two pillars 
form the entrance to a baranda decorated with 
mosaic patterns, and, from this, an intricate 
arrangement of cells with passages between them, 
leads out, causing one side of the cave to extend 
laterally beyond the proper front or entrance. 
The ceilings of the passages have all been deco- 
rated with paintings shaded in black and white, 


227 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and in a large cell are some beautifully-drawn 
figures. 

At the end of the cave opposite to the main 
entrance three doors lead to a hall about thirty- 
nine feet square with two rows of four broad, 
square, rough pillars, stretching across. The 
angles of the corners in this cave are not well cut, 
but were evidently left unfinished. 

The total length of the cave from front to back 
is about one hundred and thirty feet and the 
general height about sixteen feet. 

Leaving this third cave, and returning by the 
same road, you descend the stone stairs and 
proceed along the bottom of the hill southward, 
for about a hundred yards and then reascend by a 
rugged steep footpath to the fourth cave. Steps 
originally led from the stream to the cave. 

It is the largest cave of the series, about 
ninety-four feet square, and is remarkable in 
many respects; it is better lit, the pillars are 
more elegantly proportioned and the paintings 
are superior, more elaborate and more diversified. 
It is called ‘‘ Rangmahal,”’ which means “ colour 
hall.” 

Connected with this cave, in one unbroken 
front, which originally was covered with paintings 
uninterruptedly, is the patha-sholla, or school- 
room. A splendid colonnade, two hundred and 


228 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


twenty feet in extreme length and connected by 
twenty octagonal pillars fourteen feet in height, 
embraces the facades of both caves. Such mag- 
nificence is unrivalled and unequalled in any 
known bihara; a pilaster at each end and one 
pillar at the south are all that remain. 

The first object noticed on approaching the 
cave is a colossal figure of Buddha, which can be 
seen through the trees, cut in relief on the face 
of the rock a few yards to the left of the baranda ; 
it is in an arched niche about thirteen feet high. 
He is represented in the teaching attitude, 
seated with the left elbow on the right knee, the 
foot resting on the ground. The left arm has an 
ornament on it. The right side is worn away. 
An open makava’s mouth is behind the head and 
a riband lies on the shoulder; above the head of 
the figure are the remains of a dagoba with a 
triple umbrella and the usual flying garland 
bearers at the side of it. 

A few yards farther on, just round the corner, 
is a little recess containing two figures seated 
close together on a bench, the cobra’s hood over 
the right one. It is impossible to tell who they 
represent, but they may be Buddhas. The walls 
are painted with eight rows of seated Buddhas ; 
over these, within an archway, are the remains 
of another seated figure of Buddha, having the 


229 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


chakra, or praying wheel, beneath him between 
two antelopes’ heads, and flying garland bearers 
above. This recess borders on the pilaster which 
is connected with the colonnade of the baranda. 
It is more handsome and rich than that at the 
opposite end, where a pilaster and one pillar 
remain standing. The baranda is fourteen feet 
wide throughout its length, and ten feet high. 
From the portions of it which have not fallen in, 
the roof appears to have been painted with flowers 
and intricate patterns. The back wall has been 
plastered and painted continuously through its 
whole length in double rows, one above the 
other; portions of the upper only remain, and 
even these are scribbled over with names and 
foolish inscriptions. 

The cave itself has three entrances and two 
windows nearly as big as the doors. The chief 
door is exceedingly handsome and well-finished, 
the other two are also beautiful. It is fifteen 
feet high and eight feet broad, gradually receding 
into nine feet by six. The cornice of the door is 
ornamented with a row of nine Buddhist figures 
in different positions and a miniature dagoba at 
each end. The frieze has nine heads of Buddha 
and the architrave a flowered scroll, which 
passes down the inner pilasters. The consoles 
bear a female figure with one hand on a child’s 


230 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


head, both standing within the open mouth of a 
river-dragon. 

The other doors have much the same ornamen- 
tation. The windows are nearly square and have 
on the inside holes for the sockets of wooden 
shutters and also for a bar to fasten and shut 
them. The cave, despite its three doors and two 
windows, is quite dark and it is almost impossible 
to make one’s way into it without a light. Bats, 
snakes. and panthers inhabit it undisturbed. 

The hall possesses a most unusual arrangement 
of columns, which was most likely a necessary 
construction required by the weakness of the 
roof. Twenty-eight pillars, twelve feet high, 
support the roof and form the aisles. They are 
square at the base and change to octagons and 
then polygons as they rise, returning to octagons 
at the summit. Those at the rear are plain 
octagons which were once painted on their inner 
faces with figures of Buddha; but these figures 
have now almost vanished. 

Within this circle of pillars are eight cylin- 
drical columns arranged in pairs. They are 
carved and once bore a frieze decorated with 
figures and heads of Buddha carved in the 
stone. In the extreme centre are four-based 
pillars about twenty-two feet high. It is evident 
they were inserted after the cave was excavated, 


231 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


for they are built up out of sandstone blocks. 
Debris has piled up around them, due to the 
collapse of the roof. 

The sandstone has been too soft and unfitted 
for sculpture, so that, except for a very little 
carving on the front pillars, its place has been 
supplied by the kindred art, painting. The 
whole cave is covered with plaster, showing 
that it must once have been profusely decorated ; 
but the frescoes now remaining are so terribly 
ruined that soon they will have vanished. Seven- 
teen cells surround the hall; but three more were 
evidently intended to be excavated on the right- 
hand side. 

Cave 5, although sharing in common a baranda 
with cave 4, is separated internally by a partition 
wall thirty-six feet thick. At the right-hand 
end of the baranda are a pilaster and a cell. 
The pilaster is not so elaborate as that at the 
left-hand end, and the cell does not contain a 
colossal statue of Buddha, but four figures 
of Buddha are cut in the face of the rock between 
this cave and cave 6. 

Cave 5 is evidently, from its shape and arrange- 
ment, a lecture-hall or refectory, and hence 
its name, Shala. It is a parallelogram about 
ninety-six feet by forty-three; has no aisles, 
cells, stupa nor image, and is perfectly plain 


232 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


and without ornament, though it has been 
plastered and seems to have been once covered 
with frescoes similar to those in cave 4. Two 
rows of pillars, about six feet apart and twelve 
feet from the walls, stretch lengthways down 
the centre. They are eleven feet high and three 
feet below the ceiling. They are very peculiar. 
The shafts are round, smooth and unornamented 
throughout, and spring from the floor without 
any pedestal. A small astrogal, six inches from 
_ the top, which would have been atorusif properly 
placed, is the only ornament. Four windows and 
a door open directly into the air and light the cave. 

There are five cells in it, three in the rear and two 
on the farthest side and opposite to the entrance 
of the schoolroom; they are larger than usual ; 
probably designed for “‘arhans,”’ or instructors. A 
rough ground-red plaster has covered the walls. 

A door at the front right-hand side of the hall 
leads into a small chamber, which in turn 
leads into cave 6, evidently intended for resi- 
dence only. It has no baranda, a door and 
two windows opening direct to the air. It is 
about forty-eight feet square and has four small 
cells in addition to the shrine. Six pillars once 
supported the roof, but they have all fallen. 
The walls are plastered and a few relics of fres- 
_coes can still be found among the fallen ruins. 


233 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


Pythons and tigers delight in this cave for their 
home. aaa 

Cave 7 lies about fifteen yards farther on. 
It is a facsimile of 2 in arrangement, size and 
detail. It is about eighty-six feet square and has 
twenty pillars and twenty cells. However, it is 
so dilapidated and blocked up with fallen roof 
and pillars that it is difficult to enter at all. 
There are signs of painting on walls and pillars. 

Cave 8 is connected with cave 7 by a small 
cell. But both this cave and Number 9 are 
in such a state of collapse that it is impossible 
to enter either of them. 

The rajahs and rich people who excavated 
these caves wanted to keep up the spirits of the 
artists who, used to a worldly life but obliged 
to live, for a time, in such lonely surroundings, 
might feel depressed and therefore unable to 
work their best, and so they arranged for a fair 
to be held, throughout the whole of winter. 
To this, villagers from far away came to buy 
and sell, dance, sing and make merry, and the 
artists were thus able to pause in their work and 
relieve its monotony by mixing, as they loved to 
do, with joyous people. 

Knowing what great care the Rajahs took of 
the welfare of these olden-time artists, one learns 
with regret that three living artists, Nanda lal 


234 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


Basu, Surendra Nath Kar and Asit Kumar 
Haldar, who were sent in January 1921 by the 
Gwalior State Government to copy the frescoes 
at Bagh, were so badly looked after and treated 
that, instead of their working for the proposed 
time, three months at the caves, they had to run 
away from the gorge at the end of February 
after two months’ work. 

The caves are still terribly neglected, and no 
chowkidars are kept at the place to look after 
the caves and their surroundings as there are at 
Ajanta. It is a great pity, and they are getting 
blocked-up every day by rocks and jungle and are 
dirty and foul-smelling. 

The four miles from the village to the caves 
were too far to travel every day and would have 
involved the loss of too much time, and so I 
threw in my lot with a family living a mile from 
the caves, who gave me a bed of sorts and 
arranged for my food of chapati (a kind of bread), 
milk and eggs. Daily the little procession of 
myself and the coolies set out for the caves. 

The best frescoes are to be found in cave 4; 
but unfortunately they are fully exposed to 
weather of all kinds, as the baranda has broken 
away altogether. 

With the help of my coolies I cleared away the 
huge stones collected before the wall and began 


235 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


to trace the drawings. I then made the interest- 
ing discovery that these paintings, considered so 
perfect, are not really quite finished. There are 
groups of various kinds telling stories of ancient 
times, the subjects of which are not exactly 
known. First, a queen grieving over some sor- 
row is surrounded by maidens in a palace chamber 
and two blue pigeons sit cooing to one another 
on the top of the roof. Towards the right the 
king is holding discussion with vikshus and 
monks. Then, in the next part is a group of 
beautiful, half-nude Nautch dancing girls, led 
by two: foreign-looking men, probably Persian 
cuests in the Indian king’s court; a very frivolous 
subject for a Buddhist monastery. Over a 
garden wall, men on horseback and others are 
looking at this dancing party. Elsewhere pro- 
cessions of elephants, rushing through gates and 
cities, and scenes in an Indian forest-home under 
the wooded river bank, all speak of a bygone 
civilisation. 

In the frescoes at Ajanta and Bagh, one often 
sees in the palace-scenes a few foreigners, especi- 
ally Persians, singular in their dress, complexion 
and type of head. For instance, at Bagh is 
depicted the reception of two noble Persians at 
the court of an Indian prince. In other frescoes 
are dancing girls and servants who fill the wine- 


236 





THE RANG-MAHAL. 
CAVE 4, BAGH. 





PHOTOGRAPH OF FRESCO IN THE RANG-MAHAL. 


‘Aoquog “bsq ‘hasuning aalunyjoyy fo uorssassog ayz ur hdoo v mosg 


‘HOV ‘V FAVD 
‘SUHONVA IVAILSHA AO dNOUD V 





My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


cup and hand it dexterously to the raja and rani. 
This was because the kings of India in the olden 
days liked to have around them servants graced 
with the luxurious manners of so highly civilised 
a country as Persia, and also because they 
delighted in the entertainment of noble guests 
from the known parts of the world. Each 
eroup, to all appearance, was perfect; but I 
had studied the methods of the frescoes at 
Ajanta so closely that I knew that the impression 
of complete finish was deceptive. 

The difference between the work of the Bagh 
caves and that of the Ajanta is this: the artists 
of the Buddhist paintings first sketched the 
outline with Indian red and brush, after which 
they gradually modelled the figure. Then came 
the colours and, once more, on top of all, another 
outline. The highest lights, the deepest shadows, 
and the most delicate touches of colour were 
then applied, and finally black was used for 
details such as eyebrows, hair, etc. These last 
touches, however, are absent in the Bagh paint- 
ings. 

I have two theories to account for the un- 
finished state of these frescoes: first, that they 
were abandoned when it was discovered that 
these hills, formed as they were of soft sand- 
stone, were unsuitable for a permanent Buddhist 


237 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


monastery; secondly, that during the fifth 
century A.D. one of the great Hun kings of 
western India, foiled in his ambition to become 
a Buddhist emperor, destroyed more than 1,600 
Buddhist stupas, monuments and monasteries 
in disappointment and in revenge for being 
mocked at by the priests. This would also 
explain why such temples as these “ caves ”’ with 
their wonderful living quarters, schools and art 
galleries should have been deserted. In face of 
frequent invasion, the true worshippers disap- 
peared from the land, but by good fortune the 
caves escaped destruction from the various in- 
vaders, for the jungle closed around them. 

Here in the jungles of Bagh there are, as well 
as tigers, very old pythons, who leave their 
lairs at night to drink in the river Baghmati 
and then come through the sandy banks to the 
bushes above, in order to catch a goat or a buck 
for supper, and every morning their fresh winding 
trails can be seen in the soft ground. If the 
villagers see a python gliding towards its victim 
they run to rescue the animal, but do not harm 
the snake, taking pity on and revering it because 
it has lived since ancient times. They would 
not kill it, for fear of bad luck. In the darkest 
hour of night one is startled to hear a drumming 
sound coming from the caves. Asking the babaji 


238 


My Pilgrimage to Bagh 


why he beats the drum through the night, he 
says: ‘ Tigers come to me for permission to go 
into the village to find food; and I tell them 
within the boundary of my drum’s beat you must 
not attack any living beings, but beyond that 
sound you are free to kill whomever you wish.” 
So, in gratitude for the Yogi’s great kindness, the 
villagers supply him every day with fresh milk, 
sweetmeats, fruits and money. 

The hillside here at Bagh is so crumbled away, 
and therefore dangerous, that even while ex- 
cavating, the monks found the roof needed great 
support, and so piled up rocks to form extra 
columns. The frailty of the walls and ceilings 
is shown by the fall of earth that takes place 
whenever even a squirrel scampers over them. 
The whole year round a continual wearing away 
of the frescoes is going on. First, the hot sun 
bleaches them and then torrential rain washes 
over them. After the monsoon a hundred dif- 
ferent mosses begin to grow all over the walls. 
An additional peril for the remains of the frescoes 
is that they are subject to bombardment at the 
hands of the shepherd boys in the fields, who let 
fly stones from their catapults in order to disturb 
tigers and see them rush out of the caves. 

The art of the sculptures and frescoes in the 
caves of Ajanta and Bagh and in Ceylon is a rare 


239 


My Pilgrimages to Ajanta and Bagh 


and precious heritage of the Indian race. It is 
precious alike for its own artistic qualities and 
as a record of India’s civilisation in the past. 

It is not thanks to man but thanks to mighty 
Nature that the traces of this great art remain. 
Day by day the traces so wonderfully preserved 
for over a thousand years are becoming fainter. 
But there is yet time to place on record a per- 
manent memorial of that which still remains. 
A great album of coloured collotype reproductions 
of the treasures in the various caves would be an 
invaluable gift to the world. And if the ruling 
chieftains of the territory in which the caves are 
situated would publish such an album, they would 
render an inestimable service, by once again 
making available to mankind the record of a 
perfect expression of human life. 





BUDDHA’S FEET RESTING ON LOTUS FLOWERS 











INDEX 


Acharya Indra, 190, 195 

Ajanta Caves 

——— one of the great monuments 

in art, 16 

—— paintings of, 16-22, 51 and 
passim 

re-discovery of the Caves, 44— 
46 | 

description of Cave 1, 47, 182- 
86 

—— 2, 174-82 

173 

ee 4, 171-738 

ees. N78 

——'§, 168-71 

——-— 7, 46, 118, 127 

——— §, 50 

—— 9, 50, 96, 107-113 

, 50, 95-107, 118, 159 

== 11, 50, 122 

——— 12, 50, 115, 117 

—— 13, 50 


ees 


| 
| 
- 


== 15, 185-36 
—- 16, 51, 185, 187, 142, 164 
50, 142-48 
—— 18, 1385, 149 
— 19, 135, 149-54 
—— 20, 154-55 
—— 21, 187-88 
—— 22, 189-90 
—— 238, 190-91 
—— 24, 191-92 
—— 25, 192 

—— 26, 192-96 
—— 27, 196 

—— 28, 49, 196 

fe pe BY, 197 
Ananda, 76—77, 838-85 
Anathapinda, 77—78 
Anesaki, Professor, 20 
Arai, Kampo, 40—43 
Araisan, 42-43, 47-48 


Hila uue tad 





bo 


Asita, 60 

Asita-muni, Saint, 140 
Asmakaraza, 194 
Asoka, 49-50 
Atigupta, 214 


Bagh, paintings of, 19 

Bagh and Bagh Caves, 199-240 

Barrett, Rachel, 24 

Basathiputa, 98 

Basu, Nanda lal, 235 

Basu, Srijukta N. lal, 25 

Bees, 159-60 

Bhabiraja, 194 

Bhils, 208-10, 216-17 

Bhusaval, 200 

Bihara, meaning of, 49 

Bijaya, King, 146 

Bimbisara, King, 78, 83 

Binyon, Laurence, 24 

Introduction, 15-22 

Bodhisatva, previous birth-name 
of Buddha, 98 

Bone, Muirhead, 25 

British Museum, 106 

Buddha, life-story of, 60 

Buddha as chief elephant, 98-100 

Buddhism a foreign religion in 
China and Japan, 18 

Buddhist temples destroyed by 
Huns, 2388 

Buddhu Miya, 134, 158, 161, 197 

Burgess, Dr., 24 





Cave Temples of India, 24 
Caves, smell in, 122 
Chaitya, meaning of, 49 
Channa, 68—70 

Chinese frescoes, 16 
Chunda, 84 

Curumsey, Kallianjee, 24 


Debadatta, cousin of Buddha, 62, 
72, V7, 145 


Index 


Debaraja, 194 

Dey, Sri Mukul Chandra 

first journey to Ajanta, 28 

first sees the site of the caves, 
41 

second journey to Ajanta, 86 

——— leaves Ajanta, 198 

journeys to Bagh, 200 
see also under 
Caves and passim. 

Dhandu, 1382-38 

Dhar, 204 

Dharmahaga, 190 

Dharma-Rakhya, 214 

Druce, Mr. and Mrs. Eliot, 25 

Druce, Elsie M. C., 25 














Ajanta 


Elephant, six-tusked, 98-102 
Elephants, stone, 142 


Fa-Heen, 49, 214 

Fardapur, 39, 44, 91-94, 129, 131 
Fergusson, James, 24 , 
Fergusson, Mr. and Mrs. Louis F., 24 
Freseoes, Chinese, 16 


Ganesh, Hindu God of Luck, 223 
Gautama, Sidhartha. See Buddha 
Ghanamadada, 116 

God of Wealth, 152 

Gonsai Babaji, 219 

Gonshai Gumpha, 218, 223 

Gopi girls, 35 

Griffiths, John, 15, 17 

Guna-Vadra, 214 


Haldar, Asit Kumar, 235 

Herringham, Lady, 15, 24 

Heuen-Tsang, 49, 193, 214 

Horse, riderless, set loose before a 
coronation, 147 

Hsuan Tai, 214 


Image, Professor Selwyn, 24 
India, railway travelling in, 28-82 
India Office, 24 

India Society, 15, 17, 24 

Indra, God of Heaven, 162 


Jalgaon, the nearest railway station 
for the caves, 32 


Jayata, 190 

Jhasu Bomeah, 215 

Jivaka, 88 

Johnson, W. E., “* Pussyfoot,” 25 
Johnston and Hoffmann, Messrs., 24 


Kapilabastu, 57-58, 74 
Kapila Muni, 57 

Kar, Suren, 217 

Kar, Surendra Nath, 25, 235 
Koles, 208, 216 

Kukshi, 205, 215 


Larcher, Dorothy, 24 
Lighting of cave 19, 1538 


Maggs, Elsie, 24 

Maggs, Eve, 24 

Maggs, Henry Clifford, 25 
Mara, 185, 194 

Maya Debi, Queen, 58 
Mhow, 200-201 

Monkeys, 158-9 

Moore, Thomas Sturge, 24 
Muni, Kapila, 57 


Nagpur, 30 

Narayan, 87-89, 91, 93, 125, 127- 
131, 133 

Neri, 36 


Palaces, Indian, 109 
Paramartha, 214 
Patel Sahib, 131, 183 
Pearson, Lionel G., 25 
Pukkusati, 83 


Radha of Brindaban, 35 

Rahula, 76, 148, 151 

Railway travelling in India, 28-32 
Rajputs, 216 

Raju Professor, J. B., 1381 
Richter, F. J., 24 

Rothenstein, Mr., 18 


Sariputta, 81 

Sawamura, Professor, 40, 42-43, 
52-53 

Shakya Kings, 58 

Shudhodhana, King, 58, 74 

Sidhartha Gautama, See Buddha 

Sigiria, caves of, 199 


244 


Index 


Six-tusked elephant, 98-102 Tigers, 161 
Smell in caves, 122 
Smith, Mr. and Mrs. A. R., 25 Vakod, 91-92, 127-28 
Snakes, 208 Varnishing of paintings, 139-140 
Sonuta, chief hunter, 100 
Stupa, meaning of, 49 Wells Cathedral, 225 
Whaley, Eddie, 24 
Tagore, Dr., 43 Williams, Captain, 51 
Tagore, Sir Rabindranath, 56 Wylie, Ida A. R., 24 
Tamankaduwa, 199 
Tanga, cart, 36 Yashodhara, Princess, 62-63, 67, 
Thomas, Dr. F. W., 24 69, 75, 188-84 


PRINTED BY THE STANHOPE PRESS, LTD., STROOD, ROCHESTER 


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